


Southern Comfort Northern Soul

by springburn



Series: Random musings from The Capaldi character file. [26]
Category: Peter Capaldi fandom (not RPF), Soft Top Hard Shoulder
Genre: F/M, Friendship, Hurt/Comfort, Love, Peter Capaldi character file, Road Trip, Sequel, Slow Burn, angst/feels, rated mature for language, relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-04
Updated: 2017-06-13
Packaged: 2018-10-27 15:26:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 21
Words: 40,870
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10811760
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/springburn/pseuds/springburn
Summary: Gavin and Yvonne have made it to Scotland.This story is what happens next.





	1. Party.

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MissWinterseat](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissWinterseat/gifts), [Mywhaticallablog](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mywhaticallablog/gifts), [lava_lampington](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lava_lampington/gifts), [TardisNamedJack](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TardisNamedJack/gifts).



> This is a story I've had in mind to write for a long time. 
> 
> I realise it'll receive a tiny readership but hey. That's not a reason not to write it. 
> 
> Obviously it won't be other people's idea of what will happen between the two main characters but I hope it'll still be an enjoyable read. 
> 
> There are various mentions of happenings and dialogue from the film, and as many details as I can glean. I've tried to stay as true to the characters as possible.  
> Peter has often said in interviews that the film is not autobiographical, of course there are similarities, but I'm sticking with that. So it's a story about Gavin and Yvonne, not Peter and Elaine. 
> 
> This is not going to be an erotic or sex strewn story, because I don't feel that's appropriate. It'll be a slow burn. A sensual exploration, a coming together. 
> 
> A love story. 
> 
> This work is gifted to four friends with my sincere thanks.

SOUTHERN COMFORT NORTHERN SOUL. 

CHAPTER ONE.  
PARTY.

We none of us know what is in store for us as we travel the path through life. 

Coincidences. Fate. Luck. 

A chance meeting, a choice made or not made. Turn left. Turn right. 

Friends lost, friends found. 

All part of the rich panoply of our existence. 

Gavin Bellini entered his father's home that day, feeling that something pretty momentous had happened. 

Greeted by his assembled family as something of a prodigal son. 

Returned to the fold after his sojourn amongst the exotica of Sodom and Gomorrah. 

To him, leaving Glasgow eight years before had been an escape. Heading off to the land of opportunity.  
Where he could be anything, do anything, go anywhere he wanted. 

The place where he would 'make it'.

Utopia.

It soon became abundantly clear to him that this _'streets paved with gold'_ world existed only in Dick Whittington. 

A pipe dream. 

Entering into a mere existence, because that's all he could truly say it was. Not a life as such.  
A struggle for subsistence. 

One disappointment after another. 

Disillusioned and broke.

No wonder his take on life had become so cynical! Stressed to the point of implosion.  
Nothing ever seemed to go right. 

He couldn't pay the rent, his main form of sustenance was porridge. The fiasco at Pumpkin Books.  
All his hopes and ambitions crushed. 

Trouble was, he _KNEW_ he was talented. Was so sure of it. 

Only for that optimism to be gradually pummelled and beaten out of him.  
Eaten away like a maggot ridden apple, from the inside out. 

Hence his surrender to Uncle Salvatore's offer. The chance of having a few pounds in his pocket for once. 

A veritable Venus flytrap.

Gavin Bellini was a hapless bluebottle......landing on the sticky surface, the trap was sprung. 

He was caught. 

To be slowly devoured. 

Lured home, into the warmth and security of what he knew best. 

The bosom of his family. 

oOo

One by one they came forward. Surrounding him. Smiling. 

A welcome that only an Italian rooted family can give. 

They were all there. 

His mum. His Dad, Gerry. Uncle Sal. All his cousins, the grown up children of his other uncles, now dead.....Giovanni, Giuseppe, and Antonio. His sister and brother, with their own little ones. 

They drew him in. Smothered him with their love and affection. 

Warm, strong and genuine hugs. His cheeks playfully pinched, his hair ruffled.....in spite of his superior height. Kissed and cuddled to within an inch of his life. 

All the time, Yvonne was right there, slightly behind, peering out in his slipstream. 

Looking a little overwhelmed, but holding up admirably. 

She was introduced. She smiled, shook hands. Questions fired.....like machine gun bullets.

Rat a tat tat. 

' _But who was she?'_

_'Where did they meet?'_

_'How long had they known each other?'_

How could he possibly begin explain the last couple of days? The story was so improbable he wasn't sure he believed it himself. 

Gavin knew virtually nothing about her. 

Other than the way she made him feel. 

Her incurable optimism. Seemingly unflappable. The cheery disposition and outlook on life.  
So different from what had become his own. 

Engaged to be married. She'd done a bunk. Jilted her husband to be......the luckless Archie....

Left him standing at the altar.......

With her wedding dress in a leather Gladstone bag, and an envelope of money which wasn't hers. 

That was it. 

All he knew. 

If he was honest, she'd annoyed the hell out of him sometimes. 

No one could be that bloody cheerful! 

At least not all the time. 

And what the hell did she have to be so happy about anyway? 

Other than the fact that she'd recently escaped from what appeared to be a shackling together of two people in _'like_ '........not in _'love_ '.  
Well, he supposed that was some cause for rejoicing. 

Not ending up being married to someone you didn't even love. 

There was something to be said for that! 

Gavin Bellini had a thousand questions. 

A hundred things he wanted to say. 

But he was in a crowded room.  
Full of people who all wanted a tiny piece of him.  
_'What had he been doing with himself down there in the Big Smoke?_ '  
_'Was he famous yet?_ '  
_'Where was he living now?' 'Not still in that grotty flat in Highbury they hoped!_ ' 

But it was his father's 60th Birthday. A celebration. 

No time for talking, or asking, or anything. 

Just circulate, mingle. Exchange pleasantries. 

Smile. 

He glanced her way once or twice. As the tide of familial affection swept them apart. 

She was accepting a glass of wine, laughing, saying that, _no, she hadn't known Gavin long, they'd only just met._  
Colouring slightly as she was pressed for her story. 

A story she couldn't or was unwilling to give.

Her fingers cradling the glass, holding it firmly and taking a sip. 

Raising her eyes and catching his as she did so. 

Her look was one of either _'rescue me'_ or bemused incredulity. He wasn't sure which. Unreadable. 

_What on earth was happening?_

This was new to both of them. Two fish out of water. Floundering. 

God knows where this is all going, she seemed to be saying. 

Fighting against the current for all she was worth. 

Uncle Sal distracted him, as she reached his side, working her way carefully through the throng, until she stood at his elbow again. 

The white envelope, he knew, contained a cheque. A fat one at that. His share of the Bellini Ice Cream Empire. 

It could mean his whole future. 

Holding both hands up, he declined to accept it with a wistful smile. 

Only dimly aware of the admiring gaze with which she was looking up at him. 

He was proud. He felt good. 

For the first time in ages. 

_A complete bloody idiot_.....but good. 

In her shining eyes at least......

.....and for some reason he was anxious to be that person. 

To make her see the real him. 

The one he was when he left eight years before, not the one he'd since become. The one he wasn't sure still existed....

oOo

It was cake time.

The huge ice cream cone was bought out. Happy Birthday sung. Candles puffed out.  
Applause. Merry faces. Glowing cheeks, warm with wine and bonhomie. 

Time seems to pass so quickly sometimes. 

When you're waiting for it to pass, it crawls along at the pace of a snail, but when you feel as though you are part of a wonderful gauze viewed hazy dream, it sails by and you wonder where on Earth it went. 

oOo

Children growing fractious. People drifting away. Calling their goodbyes, hugging and kissing all over again.

"I'd best be away hame." Her smile seemed almost too big for her small, elfin face. 

"But where? Where're you gonna go?" She was already poised on the threshold, and Gavin felt like he was losing her for the second time that day. 

"I've an old friend.....I'll not go to my parents, I'll only get the Spanish Inquisition, but my friend won't ask, won't judge, she'll just let me stay a while. Get my head straight." 

"Well, is she on the phone? Can't I give you a lift? Where's her place?" The words were tumbling out now, almost in desperation, lest she should slip away and he never set eyes on her again. 

"If I could borrow your pen? I'll jot it down for ye......." She hesitated, as his hopeful and eager face turned into a worried frown. Then he brightened, as an idea struck him. 

"Or we could arrange to meet? I thought I'd stay for a bit too......here......." His words trailed away. 

"Aye. Okay then. When?" She handed over the scrap of paper, which held the precious address and telephone number. Gavin pocketed it inside his waistcoat, where it would be safe.  
He would have put it in his wallet......the one he left on the table in the motorway service station on the M6 just outside Birmingham.....but he couldn't, so here was the next best thing. 

"In town.......mebbe.......tomorrow? Tuesday?" Stepping outside, she turned back, regarding him with an air of polite inquiry. 

His face lit up. 

"Tomorrow.....tomorrow would be good." 

She was standing now, her bags at her feet. Looking up at him as if she were about to say something, but couldn't quite decide what it should be. 

"There's a lovely coffee place......near the Central station......say......" He glanced at his wristwatch as if it would somehow define the perfect moment to him. "......eleven?" 

"Okay!" That was it. 

There was no promise there, not even much assurance.  
Would this strange, enigmatic woman even show up?  
Gavin wasn't sure. 

But he was forced to just watch her turn, walk away down the path, into the suburban street, towards the bus stop. 

On impulse he ran after her. 

"Would you not let me drive you?" He touched her arm. 

"No Gavin, it's fine. You go back to your lovely family. I'll see you tomorrow. 11 o'clock." Her pace didn't slacken. It was as if she would break into a run. 

"Right. Okay then. Bye............. _bye_......." 

Alone on the pavement, staring at her retreating back, as she rounded the corner, disappearing from sight.  
She didn't look back, not once. 

Gavin puffed. Slapped his hands against his thighs in a gesture of surrender. 

Nothing he could do now except wait for the following morning.

Spinning on his heel, retracing his steps, he plunged back inside.


	2. Coffee.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gavin and Yvonne meet up in Glasgow city centre.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After the initial chapter which more or less started where the film left off, we are now into the story proper.

CHAPTER TWO.  
COFFEE.

A buzz of chatter mingled with the puffs and wheezes from the barista machine. 

Gavin bought himself a very large ' _Al Pacino_ ' and found a table for two, near the window, where he sat and waited. 

The cafe was busy, few seats remaining. 

He had a view of the door, so he could spot her when she came in.

Shucking off his knee length overcoat, curling his long fingers around the cup as if it were a bowl.  
Staring unseeing, out onto the glassy street. 

It was raining hard. Moisture from the Irish Sea funnelling up the Clyde before dumping itself unceremoniously onto the city. 

Trails of condensation rolled down the window next to him. The warm inside steaming up more with each whoosh from the coffee maker.  
Reaching up, he traced a smiley face into the fog with a fingertip. 

Expectant. Nervous. 

Taken to glancing around him now and again, at the other clientele. 

Noticing he was the only person there on his own. Everyone else seemed to have someone.  
An older couple, both with white hair, chatting happily. Youngsters in groups, animated, sharing the earphones of a portable cassette player.  
Two guys, workmen, in paint spattered togs, taking a break from plastering, or tiling, or whatever. 

Yes, everyone had someone. 

Gavin glanced at his watch. She was late. It was ten past. 

A lady asked if the empty chair opposite him was free, could she pinch it?

He stopped mid-sip of his coffee to apologise....but no, she couldn't, he was expecting someone.....they were joining him.....any minute.  
She didn't seem to believe him, giving an indignant frown. 

His eyes racked the door area. Pessimism rising with every passing moment. 

_'Please come Yvonne. Don't stand me up.'_

No sign of her. 

Licking the chocolatey powder from his lips, he sat back, his gaze now scanning the walls.  
Pictures of Italy. 

Tuscan hillsides. Florence. The colosseum in Rome. Pisa. Venice. Lake Como. 

Eyes resting on each in turn. 

He'd never been to Italy. Land of his father's. Or rather, his grandfather's.  
One day. One day he would go. 

Maybe Yvonne would go with him.......or maybe not. Perhaps he'd never see her again. 

It was twenty past now. 

He'd cradled that coffee long enough. Just as he was trying to decide whether to have another, or give up the wait and go home, the door opened. 

She entered in a flurry of raindrops, as if she were propelled inside by an icy blast.

No umbrella. 

Soaked through. 

Her hair flat against her head, rivulets running down her face, dripping from her nose and chin. 

The mac she was wearing was dark with water, across the shoulders and down the back. 

Seeing him, her face broke into a wide beaming smile. 

"So sorry! I'm so late!" She hurried over. 

Gavin stood, ignoring the fact that once again she was apologising to him. It was a word she seemed to use a lot. Especially, apparently, to him. 

Coming round behind her, he helped her out of the damp coat, shaking it slightly and hanging it on the back of her seat.  
Then pulled out the chair for her to sit down. 

"I'll get you a hot drink.....what would you like?" He asked, heading towards the counter. 

"Oh! A mocha please! I need fortifying!" Her head swivelled round, watching him go. 

Soon returning with two large cups and saucers and two pieces of cake on a tray, he resumed his seat opposite her, eyebrows raised questioningly. 

"I'd almost given you up!" He remarked. 

Her face clouded. 

"I said I was sorry......" She began. "......I was on the phone to mum.....obviously I had quite a lot of explaining to do....." 

Gavin instantly felt guilty.....he felt guilty almost as often as she said sorry! 

"..... wasn't raining when I left!" Changing the subject, she pulled at her sweater, which was slightly soggy, tugging it away from her body and flapping it in a futile attempt to dry it. 

"You'll catch pneumonia!" Stripping off his own jumper he handed it over. 

"Take yours off and put that on!" He ordered. "I've got a shirt and t shirt....I'm ok!" 

She obeyed in amused silence, peeling off the offending article and replacing it with his.....a long black chunky sweater with a white motif on the front, it completely swamped her.  
The sleeves came right down over her hands, so she cupped them around her mocha, blew on it, and took a long draft.  
A little waif. 

"Well......this is very pleasant!" She smiled, glancing around her. "Here we are.....more or less in one piece, and none the worse for our adventures it seems!" 

Gavin found himself smiling back. 

"I'm glad you came. Really glad. I thought you weren't gonna." He said. 

Her attention was distracted by the large slice of cake he'd placed in front of her. 

"Aye, well, I couldnae let you down.....after all, I'd have never got here but for you......" 

".........what is this? It looks very moist......." Prodding it now with a fork. 

"Coffee and walnut......I'm sorry if I was mean and selfish to you......but when I saw that wad of money..... _all along_.......I mean......I just......." 

"I know. I'm sorry too. But it wasnae mine to spend.......I should never have taken it......it was only in case of dire emergency......" 

She spoke through a mouthful of sponge, making satisfied grunts of appreciation as she attacked the plate with gusto. 

"It'll have to go back." She added quietly. " _I'LL_ have to go back.......face the music......at some point......say one hundred 'sorry's' to everyone I let down." 

"Me too. I can't stay here.....not for long......London is my home now......I'm not giving up." 

Chewing thoughtfully, she looked up. 

"You didnae say.......what you did?" She enquired. 

"I'm a graphic artist......went to Art School and everything, I've done book illustrations, posters, advertisements......just waiting for my big break......" 

Her eyes widened and she sat forward eagerly. 

"But that's _wonderful_! You must show me.....I'd love to see." 

Gavin didn't answer that, but continued his own thread. 

"How long will you stay? Only I was thinking......we could travel back together......I mean......Crazyhorse is all fixed now......ready to hit the road......I'd be glad of the company....." 

He trailed off lamely, as her face changed and became doubtful. 

"Or mebee not......" He concluded. 

"Och, it's not that.....it's just......" She hesitated. "I don't know......I'm not sure when I'm gonna go back, I've not really got a plan as such.....I wouldn't want to make a promise I cannae keep."

Gavin laughed nervously, his mobile face going through various stages of emotion before her eyes. Everything from nervous embarrassment to regret as he back tracked furiously. 

"It's fine! Absolutely! To be honest, I've no plans myself! I'm staying on at my sister's for a bit. I thought I'd work on some sketches, to be turned into illustrations.......try again.....you know." 

"Aye, well, I just don't want to you hang on because of me.....at the moment I'm just going with the flow, y'know?" 

Finishing her cake and slurping the dregs from her cup, she pushed it away and began to pull her coat from the back of the chair. 

"I _have_ to go! I'm sorry. I have to be at the station, Mum and Dad are travelling back up from London today, so I promised I'd meet them.....I just hope they'll forgive me......" 

Her face looked strained, as she buttoned herself into her still damp mac. 

"Forgive you?" 

"Aye! For dragging them all that way to a wedding, then no turning up myself! Leaving them all sittin' there......waiting......wondering.......while I ran away!" 

"I see........" He said, thoughtfully. Brow furrowed now with furious thinking. 

"So tomorrow or Wednesday.....or Thursday......assuming you're still alive, or not confined in a locked room....." 

"We could meet up again?" She finished his sentence eagerly. "Only I'm sure I'll be glad of a friendly face......someone to talk to......you know.....?" 

"My thoughts exactly!" His smile was genuine. 

"I'll call for you.......we'll drive somewhere.....get out of the city.......what do you say?"

Looking down into his keen blue green eyes, she laughed suddenly. It made Gavin's stomach turn cartwheels. 

"That's grand! You've got the address I gave you?" 

"I have. Shall we say ten? Thursday?" Rising then, he reached for his own overcoat, before realising she was still wearing his jumper. 

"You've got my......." Gavin stopped himself. It didn't matter. If she had his sweater, he'd HAVE to see her again! 

"Thursday. Ten. I'll be ready." She was already turning, making her way to the door. 

They parted outside in the street. She setting off in one direction, he in the other. 

But Gavin Bellini had a spring in his step.


	3. Thursday.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The couple have a little outing. Crazyhorse is fixed and ready to go!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In the film we see Gavin taking his camera to the 'knocking shop' or pawnbrokers to sell/pawn it. 'Hawking' or 'popping' are two euphemisms for pawning goods for ready cash. (Hence the children's nursery rhyme 'Pop goes the weasel'. )  
> It's my invention that he couldn't bear to part with the camera and pawned his ring instead!

CHAPTER THREE.  
THURSDAY. 

Gavin lowered the soft top of his powder blue Triumph Herald.  
Hopped in over the door.....as he usually did. 

Key in the ignition.....turn.......she started first go. 

"YEAH!! C'MON!!" 

The sun was shining, Crazyhorse was ticking over nicely.....all was right with the world. 

Checking the precious scrap of paper which contained Yvonne's address, he set off. 

Today was going to be a good day. 

A net curtain in the bay window of the old Victorian style house flicked as Gavin drew up outside. 

She'd been looking out for him. 

Out she came at the gallop. A tote bag on one arm. His jumper over the other. 

Smiling. 

That smile, it gave him the collywobbles. 

"You found it okay then?" She beamed. 

"Sure!" 

Climbing in beside him, she pushed the bag down between her knees, reaching behind her to throw the sweater onto the back seat. 

"Your jumper! I did wash it! Sorry I went home with it on, I clean forgot!......I made us food!" She announced. "Sustenance for the day......and I have the travel sweets! Want one?" 

Opening the tin she offered it to her companion. Smith Kendon boiled sweets covered in a powdery substance, presumably to stop them becoming sticky.  
Different colours, so the expectation was that they would taste different. Orange would be.....well, orange.....red might be strawberry......purple, perhaps blackcurrant......but they all tasted pretty much the same really. 

"Did you know they've been making these since 1826?" She observed, sucking on the confectionary with pursed lips. "Taken over by a big multi-national now of course.....but still using their old name!" 

Gavin wasn't quite sure what to do with this useless piece of information, so he rolled his own sweet around inside his mouth and grunted, raising his eyebrows in what he hoped was a riveted expression. 

"Where are we off to?" Closing the tin, she pushed it into the glove compartment, which Gavin had cleared of wrappers and debris before setting out.  
"It looks tidy in here! Did you clean?" She asked, peering around her, before he could formulate a reply. 

"I did!" He smiled a response. "For your benefit!" 

"You didnae have to do that for me!" Her tone was slightly concerned, as if she thought he'd gone to unnecessary trouble. 

"Nae bother." A nonchalant shrug of the shoulders. "Where would you like to go? Anywhere in particular?" 

Yvonne considered for a moment. 

"Well, I _do_ have a place I like........" Sitting back into the leather seat, her face became dreamy.  
"Loch Lomond......I love it there......it's the water.......I love water.......so calming.......and not too far away." She turned towards him hopefully. 

"Fine by me!" 

Indicating right at the roundabout, Gavin took the A82 and headed up towards Dumbarton. 

oOo

The morning was one of typical Scotland. The western side especially. 

It was always possible to have four seasons in one day here. Right now the sky was the bluest blue it could possibly be, with white fluffy clouds scudding overhead.  
Puffs of cotton, tinged at the edges with a little grey here and there, which promised the chance of a shower. This could be anything from a slight drizzle to a monsoon like downpour, but as yet it remained fair.  
A light breeze, ruffling the top of the water. Agitating it into little wavelets which chased each other ashore. 

The beauty of the loch spread out before them, its dark depths moving gently onto the pebbled strand.  
Glassy surface perfectly reflecting the hills around, a mirror image. One could hardly tell where the land began and the water ended, or vice versa.

Sometimes murky looking and grey, today the sky made it appear as Mediterranean azure, calm and serene, the sun shining down into bright and lustrous sparkles on the top, yellow diamonds, which shimmered and floated, catching the gaze and imprinting themselves on the retina. 

Parking the car, Gavin wandered off, his hands stuffed into his coat pockets.  
Yvonne grabbed the tote bag and trotted after him. 

Heading towards the jetty where the little tourist paddle steamer waited patiently. 

Taking out his camera, he lined up the shot, before snapping a couple of pictures. 

She came beside his elbow, following his gaze with appreciation. He turned to her thoughtfully.

"I almost pawned this!" He held the camera out, as if offering it to her. "But then I couldn't bear it....it's a Leica you know...... so I hawked my signet ring instead......." 

"You popped your ring?" She looked up at him with horror in her eyes. "Why would you do that?" 

"Because I'm broke Yvonne. I'm a failure. Useless. Nothing to recommend me whatever! I owed John the rent.....and I didn't have it....I didn't have anything....." 

The shrug of despair he gave made her frown, but a look of compassion hovered there.

".......Uncle Sal gave me a few quid.....to tide me over......since I wouldn't take the inheritance cheque."  
As he spoke his eyes scanned the vista, unseeing. As if gazing beyond what was actually there and into nothingness.  
"He said to take some time.....sort myself out......decide what I really wanted to do......I spoke to John on the phone yesterday, told him I'm going to stay on for a bit.......he'll keep my room open, for a wee while. He told me that Uncle Sal gave him some cash too by way a of a rent advance......see Yvonne.....always bailing me out.....I'm hopeless." 

With a little smile of empathy, she tugged on the sleeve of Gavin's coat. 

"Everyone has these moments Gavin. The trick is not to let them overwhelm you. I'm sure something will come up.....you mustn't despair......listen, let's have a nice day eh? Forget about it all for a little while......that's what I want to do......I don't want to think about Archie, or weddings, or my mum and dad giving me grief, I want to just let it all go.....for a few hours......hmmmm?" 

A puff of exasperation escaped his lungs, blowing out through his lips. 

"Okay." He said, with a resigned air. Then looking down on her arm..... 

"What's in that bag?" 

"It's lunch! A rug.......a flask......but that's for later......let's go for a nice wee walk! Find a cosy spot, out of the wind.....enjoy an hour or two." 

"Grand idea!" 

Together they sauntered off, walking close but not touching, her short legs keeping pace with his lanky ones. 

oOo

Overhanging trees sheltered them from the worse of the wind, which had whipped up as they strolled. The clouds moving faster now and more threatening. 

Rays of sunlight fanned out from behind the cumulus, shafting down onto the water like celestial pathways. 

Seated on the rug. Side by side. 

Gavin reached into his pocket, drew out his Camel's, stuck one between his lips and ferreted for matches.  
Then offered the pack to Yvonne. 

She sat with her knees hugged close to her, staring out over the restless water, seemingly lost to the world.  
The packet waving beneath her nose bought her back down to Earth. 

"I don't smoke." She said quietly, then watched intently as he struck the match inside the curve of a shielding hand, lit the tip of the cigarette, then shook out the flame, before flicking the used stick away.  
With the fag held between his long fingers he let out a long stream of smoke, then shut his eyes for a moment as the nicotine hit. 

"Why do you smoke Gavin?" She enquired with some curiosity.

"Because it's a stress reliever......." He took another drag. 

"But you're broke......how can you afford them?" Her gaze never left his face. 

"I can't......that's why I don't smoke much and am very stressed!" 

The silence yawned cavernously between them. A vast insurmountable canyon of unsaid and unspeakable sentences. Hanging in the air, suspended, punctuated only by the gentle sound of the waves lapping the shore nearby. 

Things they would both like to say. 

But didn't. 

"My grandpappy smoked like a chimney." She remarked randomly after a while. 

"Don't tell me......he died ravaged with lung cancer......" Gavin puffed on. 

"No......he had a fall actually, broke his hip, passed away in hospital." 

Her voice seemed far away, lost in the soothing sound of the Loch, the birds overhead, the rustle of the trees behind them. 

"Oh." Was all he could muster, accompanied by a small scoff of irony.

They lapsed into silence again. 

Gavin finished his cigarette and stubbed out the butt on the sole of his boot. 

His stomach rumbled angrily. 

Turning to ask if perhaps he might partake of the some of the contents of the tote bag, he saw Yvonne's eyes were closed.  
Head tilted back slightly, letting the sunshine warm her skin, apparently listening intently.  
The breeze was blowing her brown hair back from her forehead.  
There was a tear on her face, a single trail meandering down the cheek, with a salty droplet at the end.  
Gavin swallowed hard. 

"Yvonne!" He whispered quietly. "You okay?" 

Her eyes snapped open and she gave a little start. Colouring with evident embarrassment. 

"We should eat!" She announced with a false brightness, straightening her legs, and snatching up the carrier. "You must be hungry." 

Gavin reached over, laying his hand on her arm, but she turned her face away, ignoring the gesture, busying herself, ferreting down into the bag like Mary Poppins. 

"You can talk to me you know." He said softly. "I know I'm nothing much, but I can listen......" 

"Sandwiches!" She produced a brown package triumphantly, and handed it to him. "Cheese and pickle.....is that alright? And I've crisps here too....." 

"Yvonne?" 

_"Don't_!" Her glance was momentarily fierce, defensive, then softened at once, when she saw the concern on his face. "Gavin, there's nothing to say......I already told you......tied back to back......catapult......fired over the steeple, together for all eternity.......I told you.......and I couldn't do it. I just couldn't." 

Her fingers trembled as she fought to unscrew the stopper of the thermos. 

"Let me!" He was leaning close to her now, his eyes searching hers, but she relinquished the flask before their hands could touch, and he removed the lid, poured some steaming tea, then held the plastic cup out to her.

"Here." He said, with reassuring smile. "Careful, its hot." 

Raising her eyes, they met his, held them for a second, before she smiled back self consciously. 

"Thanks." 

Both hands wrapped around the cup, she blew on it, and the steam rose and dissipated as she took her first tentative slurp.

"There's nothing that can't be fixed with a brew." A little appreciative smile lit up her face once again. 

Gavin found himself quite unable to tear his gaze away. 

oOo

It was almost dark when the Herald pulled up outside her friend's terraced house. 

Gavin had long since pulled over the folding roof. 

A distinct chill in the evening air. 

He switched off the engine. 

They sat. 

Neither spoke. 

Then they both spoke at the same time. 

"Well that was......." "It was fun tod........" 

Each laughing nervously at their own awkwardness. 

"I'd best......" She cocked her head towards the house. 

"Right! Well........" he replied. 

"I'll be seein' ye then?" She moved to open the car door. 

"Can we do it again?" He blurted. "Only.....well......it was nice.....I enjoyed myself....."  
Gavin's words trailed away before he said too much. 

"Aye......me too......" She sat back in the seat, as if waiting. 

"I'll ring you......shall I?" He turned sideways so that he could gauge her response.

"Okay. You do that.......and Gavin......?" 

He raised an eyebrow expectantly. 

"Thank you!" 

Then she was out of the car, bag slung over her arm, hurrying up the path. 

He watched until she'd opened the front door, given a little wave, before he turned the key in the ignition.  
He didn't notice her peep through the living room curtains as he pulled away.


	4. Uncle Sal.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gavin is staying at his sister's. He gets a visitor.

CHAPTER FOUR.  
UNCLE SAL.

Gavin was walking up the hallway of his sister's house, scratching his hand through his bush of brown hair, as the doorbell rang. 

He opened it. 

There stood Uncle Salvatore. 

_"Ai! Nipote bambino! Comme va?"_

Gavin's face was captured between the two gnarled hands and squished affectionately. 

Without waiting for his nephew to reply, he continued, whilst steering the younger man towards the kitchen with a guiding arm about the shoulders. 

"Why are you still in your dressing gown! It's mid morning?" 

Gavin frowned, taking no notice of the question. 

"Sis isn't here, she's gone to the supermarket." 

"That's okay!" Uncle Sal sat himself down at the kitchen table without really being invited. "It's not her I've come to see, it's you." 

"Uncle Sal.....I........" 

"Make your old uncle a nice brew of coffee, will you son, I've been up since six thirty, I've done half a day's work already! And you're still in your pyjamas!" 

There was nothing Gavin could say to that, so he didn't bother. Salvatore Bellini would have his tuppence worth, no matter what.  
He turned and reached for the coffee pot, beans, cups and saucers, with a deep sigh of resignation.  
Here it would come......the third degree.....he waited expectantly.  
He didn't have to wait very long......

"I've just come from your father." 

"Have you? Is he okay?" 

"He is.....but for how long I'm not sure, he's got to have more tests on that dickie ticker." 

"Dad's as strong as an ox.......they'll sort him out......." 

Gavin busied himself, keeping his back turned, somehow he didn't want to talk to his father's brother face to face. 

"Once maybe......not anymore......he's not well Gavin, and he's worried about you." 

"He doesn't need to be." 

Sal ignored the response, carrying on as if he hadn't heard it. 

"So am I. I've always been worried about you. I'm not sure if you're a true Bellini.....you've yet to prove yourself." 

A loud bang as a cup hit the top of the counter, luckily not breaking. 

"God! It's as if I'm somehow less than human......a misfit.....is it still because I didn't want to become a fucking Ice Cream salesman?" 

The voice that replied was softer, kindly, and more measured.

"Of course not! You are such a talented young man Gavin. I saw that right from when you were a wee boy. Picking up crayons and paints, making wonderful pictures.....a real gift.  
Your ma and pa never stopped you expressing yourself......or forced you into anything! They loved it that you were so artistic! And don't knock the ice cream, sunny Jim......it put you through Art School. Never forget that!"

Gavin sat himself opposite his uncle and pushed a cup of coffee towards him. Leaning forward and resting his chin in is hands disconsolately. 

"I'm never _allowed_ to forget it! I am grateful Unc......I am......I hope one day I'll be able to make you all proud." 

Uncle Sal sipped his drink, replacing the cup into the saucer carefully. 

"You have no business acumen whatever......Gavin my boy! You need to identify your market. I heard about what happened at Pumpkin Books......." 

"Great!" Gavin huffed. "Dad tell you all about sodding Mrs Pricklywinkle did he? Ha!" 

The older man leaned forward, holding his gaze with a penetrating sternness. 

"It's fine to have ideas and principles about what you think children should be reading or rather, would like to read.......Roald Dahl did it most successfully.....he managed to incorporate a farting giant, people exploding, all kinds of violence and mayhem........but you are an unknown quantity, and you have to start somewhere......so I have an idea for you......." 

"What makes you an expert in the print business.....or the world of children's literature?" Gavin countered with as much strength of conviction as he could muster. 

"Nothing whatever! But I have good business sense. One commodity is no different from another, and you have to know what sells....no matter what the merchandise you're selling. For instance....I wouldn't make broccoli flavoured ice cream.....because kids would never buy it, and kids are my market. Mrs Pricklywinkle sells, because kids of a certain age lap her up, they love her, they love reading about her adventures......" 

"Where is this going?" Gavin groaned. 

"I'm saying that you should temper your stories a little, to reach the widest audience possible...... write and illustrate a children's story that has adventure and danger by all means.....but not including an old hag who has her foot hacked off, which is then boiled and eaten.....it won't wash!  
If you can get a good story out there......published......then you can think about branching out into a more diverse and different storyline, perhaps to an older readership.....the difference will be that you have won yourself a reputation. You can do this Gavin......be a true Bellini......I have every faith in you." 

The young and mobile face brightened slightly. 

"Really? You really think I'm that talented?" 

"Of course I do! Your draftsmanship is wonderful, your style is perfect for youngsters, but you need to come up with something far more commercially viable. I don't mean that you should sell your soul, by prostituting yourself to the saccharin or the schmaltzy, but you have to realise, that companies want to make money, that's what they do.....they need a gimmick......and you can provide that. But you have to work at it lad! You can't lie around on your arse all day and wait for fame and fortune to come find you. You have to get up.....get yourself out there......." 

Finishing his coffee, Salavatore sat back in the chair, regarding his nephew with affection. 

"The money, it's still yours you know........" 

Gavin interrupted. 

"I don't want it......I made a promise........to.......mys"

Uncle Sal butted in before he could finish.

"I know, I know! You were trying to impress that nice young woman! Speaking of whom...seen any more of her, have you?" 

"Yes......yesterday........" 

"She's a corker. But go easy........for what it's worth, I don't think she's ready for much more than a friendship at the moment, she hinted to me that she'd just been through quite a relationship trauma....." 

Gavin laughed heartily.

"You could say that.......bit of an understatement!!" 

"Yes! Well, the details aren't important......you'll need to exercise a bit of patience, care and restraint with that one. Tread lightly. But I can see you like her........" 

"Yeah........I do......she's.....well, she's........she makes me feel.......I dunno......mental......." 

Uncle Sal gave a knowing smile, tapping the side of his nose conspiratorially.

"Ah! The quickening beat of the heart, the fire in the belly......how I wish I wasn't so old and decrepit! Anyway........I digress.........the money......no......let me speak......!" 

Laying a hand on his nephew's arm, he silenced his protestations. 

"......the money is yours......no matter what.  
It's your lump sum, and you are entitled to it. BUT.....I realise you want to make it on your own.......so......it goes into an account. Safe and secure, it sits there, until such time as you can use it, or make it work for you.....or you need it.....it's for your future.......it can stay there, untouched, as long as you want.......but it's yours." 

Gavin sighed. 

"Okay. Thanks Uncle Sal.......and thanks for caring.......I do appreciate it.......really......." 

A hand was clapped on his back solidly. 

"You just get that story in the go! Get yourself round to every publishing house in the capital. Show them what you've got! Never mind Pumpkin Books.......try the others.....don't give up.....believe in yourself.....!"

He rose to take his leave.

"Thanks for the coffee......and don't you lose sight of that young lady either, she's a belter......and I'm sure she likes you......but give her time Gav........give her space.......you won't regret it!" 

By the time Gavin had waved his Uncle goodbye and returned to the kitchen to wash up the cups, he felt as if he'd been interrogated by the gestapo, or subjected to the Spanish Inquisition.  
Exhausted.  
But he also felt determined, fired up. 

Yes, he could do this. He could. 

And he would.


	5. Yvonne.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yvonne decides to go home to her parents.

CHAPTER FIVE.  
YVONNE.

Yvonne lay in the lumpy uncomfortable single bed in the poky spare room at her friend's maisonette.

She was not asleep. 

Proper sleep was a distant memory. 

Listening now to the driving rain. Battering down upon the garret rooftop over her head. 

There was not a part of that place that didn't moan, creak or rattle. 

The window in its frame, the floorboards beneath the bed, the doors, the bed itself.  
On the ceiling, an ominous damp patch, which seemed to be spreading. It now resembled a menacing clawed hand, reaching out to grab her. 

At home....or rather at her parents house, which was still referred to as home, she had a beautiful floral room. Spacious and comfortable. Kept almost as a shrine since she'd moved out several years back.

The contrast was stark. 

Warmth, comfort, brightness, versus chill, dank and cheerless. 

Her own stubborn pride was all that stopped her going to stay with them.  
That and the inevitable conversation she knew she was going to have to endure. 

It had begun at the station. The moment she'd met them off the train, but her father stepped in. 

_"Leave it Maire, now's not the time!_ " 

Oh, it was no good! She huffed to herself. There was no way she'd be able to sleep now anyway.  
The pelting rain sounded like field artillery. 

Flinging back the covers, she sat up. Legs out, bare feet on cold unforgiving floor. 

This was going to be a really shit day! 

oOo

"Hello Mum!" 

The door was opened at her knock. 

A hard and disapproving stare was her greeting. 

"Well, are you no goin' to invite me in? Or am I so despicable that I'm no longer fit to be your daughter?"

In silence, her mother stepped back, allowing Yvonne to pass. 

"I assume you'll be wanting to stay?" She asked coldly. "Where's your things?" 

"If it's okay? I'll collect them later.....I wanted to test the waters first......I wasn't sure you'd even want me.....as I'm such a terrible person......." 

All in a moment her parent crumbled. 

Tears. 

A crushing hug. 

Out it all tumbled. 

"How could you do it? To yer Dad and me......and.....oh lord.....the _poor_ bairn Archie! His face was a mess......no one knew what the hell had happened to you.....I was that beside myself......thought your father was gonnae have a wee stroke......." 

She sniffed dramatically. 

"Mum.....I'm sorry.......I am.....sorry! I am. I don't know what else I can say. I know it's awful. I know what I did was wrong. I know I've hurt everybody......but I couldnae go through with it......it'd been building and building......as it got closer and closer, I knew I didn't love him......" 

"I was that ashamed. Archie's mother was close to meltdown. It was so cowardly Yvonne.......lily-livered! Could you no have faced him....us.....everyone, before the day?" 

Out of her sleeve came a tissue, with which she dabbed at her reddened eyes. 

"I just got swept along in the maelstrom, mum.....I tried a couple of times.....to say something.....but his mam just talked over me, poo-pooed me, smothered me and shut me up.....I didn't know what else to do......I don't think I really had a conscious thought....so I just packed my bag and ran." 

Moving to the window, her mother stood, hands resting on the sink, gripping the edges with white knuckles, staring out into the immaculate garden. 

"And who's this fella.......the one you left your lovely Archie for.......?" She said, through gritted teeth. ".......he must be a complete scoundrel.......how long had that been going on.......?" 

"What? What fella? There is no fella........" 

Turning, eyes blazing, face to face. 

"Aye! Here we have it! More lies......." 

Yvonne's mind was working furiously. 

"Hang on.....you mean Gavin? What's he got to do with anything?" 

Her mother's voice went up an octave. 

"Well! Quite a lot I'd say! All I can say is.....he must be quite the catch.......to lure you away.....what did he promise you......THE MOON? THE STARS?" 

It was extremely difficult for Yvonne to keep her tone level and calm. 

"Are you completely bonkers? Gavin has nothing to do with......with anything! I didn't even meet him until that day! We are NOT a couple! But for what it's worth.....he was a friend.....and a perfect gentleman.......and he didn't judge.....or brow beat......or try to shackle me to a whipping post......." 

That was it! The straw that broke the camel's proverbial. 

She launched herself with loud incredulity.....volume cranked up to ear splitting......Yvonne cringed, and narrowed her eyes against the onslaught. 

"Oh! Of course! It's ME that's bonkers!" Shrill now. "ME whose parents shelled out for a lovely wedding.....ME who jilted the poor bugger at the altar......ME who ran away.....with, I might add, all the wedding present money......ME that behaved like a spoiled brat.......let everyone down....." 

With every 'ME' a finger was jabbed in her daughter's direction. 

"OH! FOR GOD'S SAKE! STOP!" 

Yvonne's outburst was so sudden that her mother ceased abruptly in mid flow.  
Unlike her mother, however, her voice returned immediately to its normal soft volume, as she continued. 

"Yes. I'm all those things. I freely admit to everything. I'm the very worst of the worst.  
I hate myself more than anything you could possibly say could make any stronger.  
Somehow I'll have to try to make amends. God knows how. Yes, I've let everyone down, I know that, but I also know that marrying Archie would have been a mistake.....and I couldn't live with that either.......so, shout and bawl at me, string me up, beat the living daylights out of me......for all the good it'll do.....what's done is done.....and I have to face the consequences, to clear up the mess as best I can......." 

"I'll never forget standing there, in that church......for as long as I live....." Her mother whispered, wiping her nose. 

"Where's Dad? I need to speak to him......" The younger woman swivelled round, eyes scanning, as if he might appear as if by magic. 

"Your father's in his shed!" Came the curt reply. 

oOo

"Da? Can I come in?" 

Tap, tap, tap on the clinker built door. 

A scuffling came from inside. 

Her dad's little abode. His bolt hole. 

The garden hut was his haven, as immaculately tidy as everything else.  
Tools, lawn mower, empty plant pots. 

More significantly, two comfy striped director style garden chairs. An old rug on the floor. 

Quite the little home from home. 

Emergency Thermos at the ready on the shelf. Digestive bikkies open on the workbench. 

This was where her dad escaped, when living with Maire became too much, when he needed solace or was banished to solitary confinement. 

The man shed. 

Peace and tranquility. Listen to The Archers on the battered old radio. Read the newspaper.  
Where he didn't annoy anyone, or get underfoot, or make crumbs and/or footprints on the carpet. 

The door opened slowly, his guilty face peeped out. 

"Get in here gal.....quick smart!" 

Door closed behind her. 

It was warm inside. A paraffin stove flickering.

A smell which she'd known since childhood. Creosote. Alkane. Mingled with peaty soil from a bag of potting compost and Tetley tea. 

"Hi Dad." 

Tears pricked. 

"Hey.....come here my lass.....give your old dad a cuddle!" 

Enveloped, her face against his soft checked shirt. The scent of washing powder, Old Spice and.....well......Dad! 

"I'm sorry Dad......truly......." 

"Don't cry now......it's no the end of the world! Have you spoken to Archie?" 

"Only briefly." He released his embrace, allowing her to pull back. Seating herself in one chair, while he lowered himself into the other. "He didnae want to talk to me......understandably......." 

"Well.....he will. Give him time." Leaning forwards, he took both her little hands into his large ones. "What the hell happened hen? Tell me.....help this old codger to understand......"

"I don't love him Dad......I like him, I'm fond of him......terribly fond.....but that's not enough is it? Surely not?" 

"No. It's not. But to run away like that.....your mother was all for hiring an assassin......." 

Yvonne laughed in spite of herself. 

"Oh Dad! What a mess I've made of everything......I'm sorry........" She wiped her face distractedly, pushing back her hair from her forehead. 

"And who's this bloody bloke your mam keeps banging on aboot........this Gavin......where does he fit in?" 

"He doesn't. Dad! I just met him......on the road.......on Saturday. Hitchhiking. He picked me up in his car......." 

"Tush! That was bloody stupid Yvonne.....he could have been a rapist, a mad axe murderer..... anything." 

Her parent frowned angrily. 

"Well he wasn't. He was kind. He's nice......he made me feel........feel........oh, I don't know.......different......." Her hands came up in a gesture of incomprehension. 

"Good different?" 

"Aye. Good different." 

"That quickly? He sounds like just what you need right now!" 

"Yeah. Yeah, he does.......he is......he's.......but I don't wanna......you know......not right now......not after all that's happened......it'd be foolish.......but it's weird, he's just.........just......" 

"Right?" Her father cocked one knowing eyebrow. 

"Yeah." She ended, lamely. 

A plastic mug of steaming tea was handed over, Yvonne took it with a trembling hand. 

"All the money......that the wedding cost you.......I can't ever repay it........will you get anything back?  
Oh God! Poor Archie......what an evil wench I am." 

Her father smiled, and sipped his own brew. 

"Don't fret yourself over that. I'll sort it.......with Archie's Dad.......but you'll have to return the presents, and the money you took........and you will need to speak to Archie at some point." 

His tone was kind. 

"I know. And I will. I never touched the money Dad.....not a penny.......even though we really needed it at times.......but providence provided, we got by.....it was adversity.....it flung me and Gavin together!" 

Her father was watching his daughter's face intently, there was a slight smile there as she recalled the journey, her eyes were bright, alive, and he hadn't seen her like that for a very long time. 

"Is he well off?" He asked, pointlessly. 

" Ha! No! Gavin hasn't got a pot to piss in......at least he didn't have then......nothing like Archie.....he's completely broke......but his family are lovely, they're not posh, but they're decent. Italian stock. Bellini, the Ice Cream people.......they were so kind and welcoming to me.....I felt like I really belonged, and they didn't know me from Adam. But it didn't matter to them.  
I didn't have to pretend to be something I'm not, not like with Archie's parents, and his snooty sister......" 

"Well. He sounds grand." 

Yvonne set down her empty cup, and looked at her pa in despair. 

"Yeah. I like him........Dad.......what am I gonna do about mum? I think she actually hates me!" 

She was immediately drawn into another warm hug.

"You leave your mother to me.....she'll come round!"


	6. Walk.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gavin and Yvonne go for a walk, following her set to with her mum.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All Glasgow references are a accurate as I can make them, for 1992.

CHAPTER SIX.  
WALK. 

They'd arranged to meet outside Glasgow Central. Since it was a central place to meet! 

Gavin waited for half an hour. 

Frequently glancing at his watch. Shuffling his feet. Scanning the faces in the crowd.  
Looking for that one face. 

The little face that somehow did things to him deep inside, things he didn't quite have words for. 

It didn't appear. 

There was a drizzle in the air, but the clouds overhead were breaking. Blue peeping through.....which was promising. 

Still no sign of her. 

People were beginning to notice him now. A spare part. Loitering. 

The booth vendor behind was staring at him, nervously. She clearly thought he was waiting for an opportunity to pinch something.  
Her eyes flicked down to his scuffed boots, up to his trousers, his coat, then finally a defiant look right at him.  
It made him shift self-consciously. 

Eventually, and as if to prove to her that he was not about to do anything menacing, he moved to the counter, and purchased a roll of Polo's. 

"I think I've been stood up!" He joked. "Bin here ages.....no show!" He gave what he hoped was a friendly, _'I'm not a shoplifter_ ', grin and a wink. 

The woman glared back at him coldly, and didn't trouble to reply as she handed him his change.

"Have a nice day!" He said, although he didn't mean it. He hoped she had a horrible day! 

No......no, he didn't.......not really.......oh fuck! Where _WAS_ Yvonne?

oOo

Giving it another ten minutes, sucking one of the mints dolefully.  
He passed the time by trying to stick his tongue through the hole in the middle, to see how thin he could get it, before it melted away. 

It was no good. He would have to go look for her. 

He had a hunch he knew where she might be. 

Leaving the station, he turned along Argyle Street, before cutting down and heading towards the River. 

There she was. 

Standing in the middle of the South Portland Street Suspension Bridge. 

Where he'd found her before. 

Leaning against the cast iron rail.  
Staring away downriver........Victoria, City Union, Albert......bridges in sight and far beyond, to where The Clyde narrowed and turned a corner, flowing away past the Winter Gardens, known colloquially as The Glasgow Green, and on, inland.  
Unseeing eyes.  
Lost in thought.  
Unaware of the passage of time. 

Walking slowly up to her, he stood there. 

Silent. 

Waiting.

Eventually she turned, looked at him.......and came back to Earth. 

"Thought I might find you here." 

It was several seconds before she looked at her watch, raised a shocked eyebrow, then spoke. 

"Sorry......." 

His hand touched the sleeve of her jacket, a gesture of comfort. 

"Don't be!" 

"Lost track of time......the water helps me think." 

Bravely, he put an arm around her shoulder.  
She didn't seem to mind.  
So he left it there. 

She didn't lean into him, but she didn't pull away either. 

So that was good. 

"Let's walk.....shall we?" He suggested. 

Nodding, she moved along with him, they turned as one, wandering back to the riverside path, heading in the direction of Saltmarket, before turning left and walking uphill.  
Ahead of them, the Tolbooth Steeple, standing like a thin obelisk in the centre island of The Cross, the blue face of its clock saying the exact time to the moment. 

No real thought of direction. That wasn't important. Just walking. 

She didn't speak at all. Gavin didn't push her. She'd say something when she was ready. 

Strolling along, in silence, with his arm around her shoulder, like it belonged there. 

The fabric of her coat soft under his fingers, and beneath that, the top of her narrow arm, which his hand could almost encompass completely.  
Yet there was tensile strength there. He could feel it. 

He never wanted to stop walking.  
Like this. 

With Yvonne. 

oOo 

St. Mungo's Cathedral was a sturdy edifice. 

Blackened stone, rather grim and stoic. Reminiscent of the people at the time of its building.  
Dour Gothic solidity, a constant, one of the few Medieval Scottish churches to survive the Reformation unscathed.  
A somewhat squat tower, pointed steeple. Green lead roof. The saint after which it was named slumbering out his eternal repose in the Crypt beneath. 

Perched there, on its low hilltop, it commanded fine views across the city towards the River. 

What comings and goings had it's ancient all seeing walls witnessed? 

Battles and sweeping reform. Revolts and revolutions. Wind and weather. Fire and brimstone. Times of plenty, and of austerity.

Yet still it endured. 

Entering the wrought iron gates of The Necropolis, Gavin stood back to let Yvonne pass through. Relinquishing the shoulder where his arm had felt so comfortable. He greatly mourned the loss. 

Looking about him with the same awe, the same frisson of thrill, as he did when once coming in after dark, for a dare as a youngster, the couple ventured inside. 

This place always morbidly fascinated him as a child. 

He was never really scared, in spite of its spooky reputation. There was a certain eerie, otherworldly quality it was true, but it was benevolent rather than menacing in his mind. 

The abode of the dead. 

A peaceful, tranquil haven. Where shafts of sunlight poured down, illuminating the many monuments and memorial stones with an almost celestial reverence. 

Fifty thousand souls were buried there. In everlasting sleep. 

The pair meandered together among the grave markers. Reading the names aloud. 

Separated now, but still in close proximity, Gavin's hands thrust morosely into his pockets, hers clasped before her, almost as if in prayer.

Bending to examine a huge tomb, a grey stone sarcophagus......

 _"In loving memory.......of a dearly beloved wife and mother.........Katherine Eliza Hamilton.......departed this life, 30th day of October in the year of our Lord, 1843. Generous of heart, constant of faith."_

.......he read, then turned to say something, only to find Yvonne had wandered off, now some distance away, standing before a beautifully carven figure. 

Reaching forwards she brushed the stone plinth below. Seated upon it, a lovely angel. Head bowed, wings furled.  
A faithful guardian, fashioned in white marble. Discoloured now to a dirty grey, but still fine. Green algae had grown on the outstretched hands, the head and face, two emerald trails down the cheeks, as if the statue were crying. 

Small fingers removed tendrils of ivy, which clung tenaciously to every crevice on the pedestal, brushing away the growth of over a century of neglect. The inscription now barely discernible. 

_"Suffer little children to come unto me......._ " She recited, as Gavin reached her side. "This one's a wee child......look......"

Her fingertip traced the broken lead lettering carefully.

 _".....Andrew James McBride........och.......died aged four years_........that's so sad.......poor bairn."

Turning her head she looked up at Gavin, who stood hunched against the wind, knee deep in the long grass just behind her. 

"I know! But they placed a bonnie angel to watch over him......." He remarked cheerily. ".....forever.......thats somethin' hey?" 

Yvonne rose, using his arm to lever herself up. 

"Aye! Looks as if it's weeping for the wee boy too......all these countless long years......" 

oOo

They found a wooden bench and sat themselves down. Close. Side by side. Shoulders touching. Gazing out over the City which seemed to hover in a haze below. He offered her a Polo.  
She declined. 

A companionable hush.

It was one precious thing that Gavin had discovered about being with Yvonne. 

There were no awkward silences. No need for one or other of them to be speaking. It wasn't something he'd ever experienced before. The need to make small talk was an inherent curse. 

Not with her. 

It was late in the afternoon now, the yellow sun was waning. Bathing the buildings below in golden light. 

Suddenly Yvonne gripped Gavin's arm tight. 

_"Gavin! Look_!" She hissed. 

Following the direction of her gaze he spotted a single roe deer doe, tentatively coming out onto the path between the gravestones, always alert and cautious, but stopping to graze from time to time.  
Small and brown, a little bigger than a Great Dane, her sharp face and huge round eyes watched them piercingly, before presenting them with her white rump as she moved away. 

_"Don't move! Don't even breathe_!" She whispered.

Her fingers were digging almost painfully into his forearm with barely suppressed excitement, as a young spotted fawn followed its mother into the open. Trotting in her wake, the youngster, all spindly legs and big velvety ears, moved behind the Doric pillar of the John Knox memorial and vanished from their sight. 

Yvonne burst into a fit of ecstatic nervous giggling. 

"Wow!" She blurted, breathless with wonder and emotion. "Right in the middle of the city!! Who would have dreamed it? I thought I was seeing things for a moment." 

Gavin smiled down at her. Her face was shining, eyes bright, where they had been dull and lifeless all day.  
Flushed with the amazement of seeing a wild creature so close and apparently unconcerned by their presence.  
Wrapping both her arms around his arm, she pulled him into her side. 

"That's made my day!" She said quietly. "A shit day, that gradually got better and better......the walk, the solitude, finding our way here......then this!" 

Gavin held his breath still. Afraid to break the spell. 

His lungs screamed......reaching bursting point, the pumping blood throbbing in his ears. 

Her grip relaxed and they gave a collective sigh. 

The moment passed. 

"I'm hungry." She announced, as if to the world in general. 

"My cousin.....Uncle Giovanni's son? He has a little Italian restaurant, in town......fancy it?" 

"That'd be pure dead brilliant!" 

Gavin found himself laughing. 

"Let's go then!" 

Together, they rose, heading down the narrow path towards the iron gates that lead back to the road. 

Gavin felt a good deal calmer than he had for many months.


	7. Change.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There is a subtle change in the couple's relationship.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Willow tea rooms with its interior designed by Charles Rennie Mackintosh, was latterly part of Henderson's the jewellers and is closed now, undergoing a major refurbishment with a view to reopening. Let's hope it does!

CHAPTER SEVEN.  
CHANGE.

They met almost every day. 

Whether by accident or design. 

Sometimes out and about around the city and sometimes at Gavin's sisters house. 

It was made perfectly clear to Yvonne that Gavin was not welcome within a mile of her parent's place. 

Her mother was quite clear on that. Adamant in fact.

"He's no comin here! I don't even want to see him......poor Archie! To think you have allied yourself to this ne'er do well when you could have been happily married.......to dear Archie....."

"Fine, mum, have it your way. I'll tell my friend Gavin that he's unwelcome! His lovely kind family will no doubt not find it much of a loss.......and for your information......I'd have been _miserably_ married....but that would clearly be okay with you.....if only so that you can save face!" 

Turning on her heel, she stormed out. 

On the way to the door, she met her father. 

"Tell mum, I'll enrol as soon as I can get a form......!" She almost sobbed.

Dad stared after her, perplexed. "Eh?" He said, scratching his head. 

"......at the convent. I'll become a nun.....take the veil.......save everyone a hell of a lot of trouble!" 

Then she was gone. 

oOo

The change was a subtle one, it happened without either party really noticing. 

On the previous meetings, he would fall into step at her side, usually with his hands stuffed resolutely into his pockets, since they seemed almost too big for the rest of him, and he rarely knew what to do with them. 

She always smiled a greeting. Pleased to see him.....and he, her. 

This particular day, however, they bumped into each other unexpectedly on Buchanan Street.  
Gavin had just come out of The Gallery of Modern Art, where he'd been in the hope of some inspiration, hurrying round the corner passed St George's Tron, he cannoned straight into her, almost knocking her down. 

"Yvonne!" He cried, when he realised who it was.

Before he'd even thought about it, he was hugging her. 

It lasted a mere second. 

A stiff, rather awkward hug, as it turned out. Arms not quite closing round. Her's staying almost by her sides, gripping his elbows lightly. His face touching hers for a moment, before pulling away.

"Where are you off to?" He was blustering now, saying the first thing that came into his head. 

She seemed as nonplussed as he was. Taken aback. Giving an odd little quirk with her mouth and narrowing her eyes slightly. 

"Just window shopping. Needed to get out of the house." She appeared listless, subdued. 

Hesitating, Gavin wasn't sure whether to let her go on her way, or invite her to join him in doing something. 

The decision took only a moment. 

"Willow Tea rooms is just round the corner......want to share a pot......and a sticky bun, tell me all about it?" 

Her face changed to mild amusement. 

"If I stay up here much longer I'll turn into a fat hippo......" 

But her eyes were soft again, their sadness gone, whatever she thought of the hug, she clearly decided to let it pass with no mention.  
Gavin was certain he wouldn't repeat the exercise in a hurry.

The contact had been a mistake.....it was too soon.....it wasn't what she wanted, but she was too polite to say. 

Rounding the corner they walked side by side again, as they usually did. 

"So.....mum giving you more grief?" He ventured. 

"Yeah. About you mainly." 

His eyes widened. 

"About me? Why?" 

"Oh, you know, usual stuff. It's as if I'm bloody sixteen. You're not suitable......no, actually, you're not _Archie!_ Oh and she thinks we're an item.....she thinks I'm having an 'illicit' affair, when I should be thinking about 'poor jilted Archie'.......as if I'm not......thinking about him.......I mean......."

"I see......" Gavin gave a little shrug. It was pointless defending himself to her, she wasn't 'the enemy', but he couldn't help feeling a little piqued, since the 'jilting' was nothing whatever to do with him, and Yvonne's mother knew nothing about him, other than he was, apparently, an unwanted interloper. 

They entered the Art Deco tea shop and were shown to a table. 

The surroundings were pure Rennie Mackintosh, beauty in monochrome. Like entering another world. A bygone age, long disappeared into the mists of time elsewhere. Yet lingering on, in here.  
Upright chairs, starched table cloths, glass lampshades, sleek, if slightly faded grandeur. 

Gavin ordered. 

"Have you spoken to Archie?" He enquired, as she peeled off her jacket. 

"Aye. I'm going back next week. The time I took off work......for the honeymoon......I'll be expected back anyway. No doubt I'll have to face my work colleagues too....half of them were there on the big day. Sitting there in all their finery.....for a wedding that didn't happen. They'll be gagging to know what happened. More interrogation." 

She gave a huge sigh. 

"I never even asked.......what you do?" 

"Secretary.....to a Legal Firm......that's how I met Archie. He's a solicitor."

The waitress bought their tea, and a cake stand, displaying two very large and extremely sticky, sticky buns. 

"Blimey......no wonder you're so bright and resourceful......must be a pretty posh outfit?" 

Yvonne looked up at him, his cheek, comically, full of cake, which he was chewing like a hamster. 

"Gavin.....you've got......." She reached forward with her napkin. "All on your chin......." 

She wiped him, as if he were a child, making his face colour red, and flustering him terribly. 

"Sorry! Didn't know! Great buns though eh?" 

Her laugh was merry and genuine, throwing her head back. 

"You're priceless!"

Sitting back, he watched her, her amusement was his joy. Seeing her little pixie face light up, her eyes sparkle.  
His stomach churned, and it wasn't caused by the sticky bun! 

"You didn't answer the question......posh outfit?" He pursued. 

"Aye.....I suppose.....we have some quite high profile clients." 

Her smile faded. 

"Will you let me take you back?" He asked suddenly, as the mirth subsided. 

She hesitated a moment, as if considering. 

"Only of you let me give you petrol money....." She replied thoughtfully. ".......and if you promise there'll be no 'incidents'!

"Och! I can't promise that! This is me.....Gavin.....my life is one fucking 'incident' after another!" 

The smile was warm again. 

"Aye....well.....okay then......if you're willing. It'll be a much nicer journey than just me on my own." 

"I'd be glad to. Hopefully it won't be quite as eventful as the trip up here......seems like a lifetime ago now, somehow." 

Finishing his cake he wiped his fingers. 

"Shall I be mother?" She reached for the teapot. 

"Probably best!" 

He watched her closely as she added the milk, then poured the tea using the metal strainer.  
Satisfied it was a good colour, she handed him the sugar basin. 

"Not for me thanks....sweet enough!" Raising his eyebrows eagerly, hoping she'd agree with him. 

"Aye! You are that!" She replied with a little knowing smirk, as she passed him the cup and saucer. 

She was eyeing him with some merriment, he looked ridiculously pleased with himself, and it made her glad. 

"You'll nae get out the door if you're not careful!" She laughed, trying to appear stern, but failing miserably. "Your head'll be that big!" 

That wiped the grin from his face. 

He looked hurt now. 

"Gavin.....I'm teasing you!" She gave him a playful little punch on the arm across the table. 

They chuckled together, then sipped their tea. 

oOo

Emerging some time later, Yvonne's miseries had left her. 

All seemed right with the world again. 

An hour with Gavin Bellini had done that for her. 

As they made to go their separate ways, she stood facing him. 

"Thank you for that!" She beamed. "You've cheered me up.....I was so down in the dumps." 

He shrugged. 

"Nae bother!" 

"Well, I'm going to go off and finish my window shopping......what are you gonnae do?" 

Another shrug. 

"Go home I think. Work on some drawings. I've a couple of story ideas I'm testing out." 

"Ok.....well.....I'll see ye then?" She stepped closer, as Gavin stuck his hands deep into his overcoat pockets. 

"Give me a ring.....I won't ring yours......case your mam answers......." 

"Good idea.....she'll probably bite your head off!" She was looking quizzically into his face.  
Just as he was deciding to turn away, she held her arms out, away from her sides......an invitation. 

Gavin stepped into them without hesitation. An embrace. Just for a couple of seconds. 

When they parted, they were both laughing nervously. 

"Bye Gavin." 

Almost before he could register what had happened, she was hurrying away, up towards Sauchiehall Street, heading for the pedestrian precinct. 

He raised a token hand in farewell, waggling his long fingers at her, as she turned back to look at him.  
Standing there.....rooted.....in the middle of the pavement. 

Gobsmacked. 

A wee wave back, a slight shy smile and she disappeared into the throng of shoppers. 

Well, that was unexpected!


	8. Southbound.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gavin and Yvonne are heading back to London.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a few notes. At the time the film came out in 1992, the M6 ended after the Carlisle bypass, from then on, up to Scotland, the road was pretty shit. The M74 didn't exist, as it does now.  
> Gretna Green, being the first habitation over the border, with different laws, meant that a couple could get married immediately, many couples ran away, and ended up in Gretna for a quick wedding. 
> 
> In the film, the seaside town where Gavin and Yvonne stop and where they meet Mr Cherdowski and return his credit card, is Morecambe, in Lancashire.  
> The M6 passes within five miles of it. So it made sense to me that they'd stop there on the way back too.

CHAPTER EIGHT.  
SOUTHBOUND. 

A routine was firmly established. 

Without comment from either party. 

It had somehow become the norm. 

Each time they met or parted, they hugged. 

For Gavin, it was a seminal moment, when his heart beat hard inside his chest, as if clawing against his rib cage to escape. 

Yvonne had the distinct sensation of clinging to a lonely rock in the middle of a wild and turbulent ocean, a place where the ravages of the waves couldn't quite reach her, nor boats come ashore.  
There a stone tower stood, safe and solid, providing shelter and comfort. Where she alone was able to scramble and hide herself from the elements. 

The few, brief seconds that each embrace took was like a rushing of wind around them both, of tornado magnitude. Everything about them seemed to blur and fade. 

Her cheek would press momentarily against his jumper, the wool soft against her skin.  
Gavin smelled so nice.  
She would breathe him in, filling her nostrils with that scent, committing it to memory. 

Skinny ribs!  
His height, and the angular quality of him, pleased her. He seemed ridiculously tall, gangly almost, although in reality he was just a smidge over six foot.  
Awkward somehow, uncoordinated, although undoubtedly artistic.  
The limbs that held her in those moments felt wiry, the forearms tensed, holding her in place.  
Large hands splayed against her back. The pressure of them was not threatening but carried a sense of security. 

A little sound left him, a hum of pleasure, accompanied by a small, nervous puff of air, which was somewhere between a squeak and a hiccough. It made a lurch in her breast to hear it. 

Short wee thing! Gavin thought. 

Her head just reached the ideal spot on his torso. Mid chest. Just against the sternum.  
If he was wearing a shirt and not a sweater, he could feel the press of that soft cheek. Face to the side, nose close to the flap of his coat.  
He could not see that her eyes were shut tight......blocking out all else.......not because of the fact her head was some way below his chin....which it was, but because his own were closed too.  
Lips jammed together. Holding in the thrum of joy which threatened to burst forth and betray him.  
Beneath his fingers, her thin cotton jacket, and beneath that, her shoulder blades.  
Lose and relaxed, as she melted against him. 

He could stand like this forever. 

Just holding. 

Yvonne. 

His eyes opened, she was pulling back. The loss was palpable. Looking up at him, with a face he found it difficult to tear his gaze from, and just as complicated to read. 

Permanently perplexed by her expressions, unsure of the meaning behind any of them. 

Today, her bright smile didn't quite reach her eyes. She was sad.  
He could tell that much. 

Even he, to whom women were a perpetual and unfathomable mystery.

Mouth a little downcast, shoulders hunched slightly, as if carrying a heavy burden. 

"Alright?" He tried to make himself sound as cheery as possible. 

"Aye." She answered, but did not elaborate. 

"I said goodbye to everyone already......went to Mum and Dad's last night. Sis has gone to take the kids to school and nursery.......where's your stuff?" 

He glanced around her feet and legs, as if luggage would suddenly appear there. 

In the euphoria of the embrace, he'd quite failed to notice that she had no bags. 

"Central." She replied with a heavy sigh. 

Gavin looked confused. 

"Mum and Dad took me to the station......they think I'm getting the train back......Mum even bought me my ticket......" She fumbled in a pocket and produced the offending article. ".......when I tried to tell them you were giving me a lift......Mum just totally lost it......"

She folded her arms over her chest and stood, legs apart, giving an approximation of her mother's stance and words.

" _You are NOT travelling back with that ghastly boy! You'll go on the train.......your father and I will drop you, and I'll pay for your ticket.......Archie will meet you at Euston......then you two can talk......let's hope he can see it in his heart to forgive you!"_

She diminished. Sinking back and becoming herself again. 

"So I waited till they'd gone, dumped my bags in the left locker, got the bus here......so we'll have to make a detour to fetch them.....they were too heavy to lug all this way......and I'll cash in the stupid ticket at the booth......and you can have the cash for the petrol......"

Gavin frowned. 

He had the sudden urge to gather her to him and hold her long and tight. 

He didn't. 

Reaching forward he rubbed the side of her arm in the friendliest way he could manage, his face full of sympathy and concern. 

"I'm surprised they didn't insist on actually watching you board the train!" He remarked. 

"Mum wanted to, but I gave Dad a pleading look, and he must have cottoned on.....because he said, _'come on Maire, let's leave the poor girl to it.....she's got time to get herself a coffee before the train departs_ ' and he kinda dragged her off before she could protest......thank God for Da!" 

oOo

Gavin sat in the car on the double yellow, engine running, fingers drumming on the steering wheel, as he watched Yvonne hurry as best she could, across the concourse with her leather Gladstone bag and a suitcase.  
Jumping out as she got nearer, he opened the boot and they shoved the luggage inside, to make a quick get away, before the traffic warden caught them and gave him a ticket. 

Today was not a day for having the soft top open. 

Rain in the air. Grey and morbid. 

The city was weeping its farewell. 

He wasn't sure how Yvonne was feeling but Gavin felt elated. He was going home. 

Yes, home.

Because here didn't feel like home anymore. It felt stifling.  
In London he was freer. Not constantly monitored or abraded.

The anonymity pleased him. He was unlikely to meet a family member, or some prat he went to school with who disliked or even bullied him twenty years previously, in Highbury. 

He was looking forward to his own modest room.....surrounded by his _stuff_......it didn't matter that it wasn't a palace, it didn't matter that there were mice, or that the couch was lumpy, or that the hot water tank wheezed when you turned on the tap.  
He didn't care. 

Home. 

Sharing with John......who, although a stickler for tidiness, was a good and true friend. 

Things would be different henceforth. 

He would work his arse off. Get his story out there. 

And then......there was Yvonne. 

Nothing would ever be the same again now there was Yvonne. 

oOo

Hitting the A74, he put his foot down as much as he dare. 

Crazyhorse was not a motor to be flogged. She couldn't take it. He knew that now. 

But this stretch of road was the worst. 

Coming up from London it was good motorway all the way.....until you reached the other side of Carlisle.......you hit the border and it was like going from Mayfair to Mile End......bloody ridiculous! 

Stark contrast. English road. Scottish road. 

Ne'er the twain shall meet. 

Downright dangerous, part single lane, part dual carriageway.......which would suddenly run out just as you were in the middle of overtaking something.  
Or you'd get stuck behind a massive lorry......doing 45......no way of passing. 

Horrible. Frustrating in the extreme. 

Reaching Gretna they stopped for a well earned coffee.....and conveniences.....since Gavin was living in fear of his bladder. 

He put it down to the stress! 

A welcome break, let Crazyhorse cool down, all three taking a collective breath. 

Seated opposite each other. She stared down into her rather muddy looking cup. Then up at him. 

"Think of all the couples who have run away up here, from England, to get married on the quick!" She remarked sullenly, glancing around her. 

"Aye......." He replied, not really sure what to say. 

"Archie even suggested we elope........it was me who said no.....gotta do it properly.......I'm such an idiot!" 

"What's done is done Yvonne.......for better or worse, if you pardon the pun......and thank God you didn't......elope I mean.......you'd be married now.....and I wouldn't have m......." He shut his trap quickly, before he said too much. 

"......you done? Let's get back on the road!" He continued, trying his best to recover himself.  
"Long way to go yet." 

oOo

Gavin's mind wandered. 

He thought of the moment when they crossed into Scotland, on the way up. Now seemingly so long ago. 

They'd both cheered! 

He was going to make it to his Dad's party. Yvonne had escaped. 

It was all good, a sense almost of euphoria. Coming home. 

Now, she sat beside him in stony silence. Her jaw set. 

As they crossed the border marker, this time on the way down. 

***ENGLAND.***

His heart gave a curious leap. He felt like he was going home all over again.  
But in the opposite direction. 

Split in two. 

Home here. Home there. 

For Yvonne, however, every mile they covered gave her the sense of impending doom. 

At Morecambe they stopped again, because Gavin had cramp in his accelerator foot and calf.  
Having long legs in a small car was a curse!  
Also because they'd stopped there before, on the way up, and had been exceptionally lucky finding the credit card, meeting Mr Cherdowski......somehow it seemed right that they should. 

Parking on the seafront, they walked. 

Off season. 

Almost deserted. 

A couple of dog walkers. A hardy jogger. 

A little bleak to say the least. 

The tide was out, exposing miles and miles of flat sandy estuary. The perfect environment for the shellfish and crustaceans for which the little town was famous.  
Cockles mostly, and brown shrimp. 

Yvonne walked ahead slightly, as Gavin limped along behind, trying to loosen the tight muscle in the back of his leg.  
Leaning against the sea wall, head thrown back, eyes narrowed against the sharp breeze. Feeling it against her forehead and cheeks.  
She took in a series of deep lungfuls. 

"I like it here." She breathed, then spun round to look at him. "You okay?" 

"Fine!" He lied, with a grimace. 

"Mebee, we shouldn't go any further today......we could find a place to stay......" She indicated a row of Victorian promenade houses, one of which had a sign in the window _*VACANCIES*._

It was called the ' _Bide-a-wee Guest House_ '....... _'Bed and Breakfast at a reasonable rate.'_

Gavin frowned. 

This was not on his agenda. He just wanted to get back to London. The quicker the better. 

Six, maybe eight hours, if you counted a couple of comfort breaks.  
Job done. 

He hesitated, but Yvonne's face seemed so hopeful, there was a kind of desperation behind the eagerness. 

Then he realised. 

Finally.....an expression he could read! Clear as day! 

He must be learning. 

She didn't want to rush back......she was in no hurry at all.  
All that waited for her at the other end was the person she'd run away from a couple of weeks before.......who had to be faced down.  
Not to mention the whole of his, by now, disapproving family, and several disgruntled work colleagues. 

No wonder she wanted to delay the inevitable. 

Who could blame her? 

"Look Yvonne...." He replied, discouragingly, but stopped his tack immediately when he saw her face fall.  
"I'm happy to stay here.....but is Archie not gonna be waiting for you at Euston Station? I think it might be prudent to at least ring him. Tell him what you're doing......then at least he'll no think you've run out on him again......or you're messing him about?" 

Her expression brightened again. Her relief tangible.

"You're right! Of course! I wasnae thinking......I'll find a phone box.......are you sure about this though....? I mean......I'll pay......." 

Gavin tutted. "It's not about the money Yvonne.....honestly! It was just that........oh look, it doesn't matter, let's see about a room then......yeah?" 

She looked crestfallen. 

"I'm stopping you getting back.....and you want to.......and you're too nice to say so. I'm sorry Gavin, I'm being really selfish." 

"You're doing it again!" Gavin flapped his arms in exasperation. 

"Doing _what_?" She cocked her head on one side, regarding him with confusion. 

"Thinking you know what I'm thinking. That you know me! Winding me up! Getting me all in a state! How do you even do that? Beats me!" She smiled slightly at his pained expression. 

"I wasn't aware......" She began.

"No.....that's just it! You're not aware.....Yvonne......listen.....if you want to stop over.....then we'll stop over. I just want you to be happy. I hate it when your face looks sad, because it's so attractive when it's cheerful. You have the propensity to be cheerful when most people would be screaming and beating their heads against a brick wall. Me amongst them probably! And that makes the sun come out......"

As he was speaking, the sun, did indeed peep out from behind the clouds. 

"There! See!" He pointed upwards to the sky, then held his arms aloft as if in surrender. 

"We can take all the time you like......I'd don't have to be home at any specific hour or moment.  
You told me not so very long ago, that clock watching induces stress......and you were absolutely right!  
What's one bloody day?  
I know it must be hard for you.....that you're not looking forward to facing the music.......I get that.  
So.......we'll stay. Carry on tomorrow. Grab a few precious hours of respite....." 

Before he could continue, she stepped into him, put both her arms around his waist, under his coat, so that they met and clasped at his back, holding him tight. 

"Thank you Gavin." She pressed her head against his ribs. Face first. 

For a second he was too surprised to react, but he quickly rallied, and bought his own arms around her in return.  
She felt him rest his chin on the top of her head, he might even have placed a kiss into her hair.....but she couldn't be sure.  
She was enjoying the sensation of being this close far too much to either notice or care. 

The solidity of him. 

His warmth. 

Hearing his heart hammering beneath his jumper. Feeling the rapid rise and fall of his chest beneath her ear.  
Pulling back she looked up into his face. 

"You're a dear." She whispered.


	9. B&B

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Homeward bound, Gavin and Yvonne make an unscheduled stop.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Arctic Roll for those non-Brits who are not of a certain age like me......Birds Eye, the frozen food company, bought out this king of desserts.....ice cream surrounded by jam and sponge! It was the innovation of the sixties!  
> Chopper bikes, these were pedal bikes which tried to look like Easy Rider.....it was THE bike to have as a kid! 
> 
> Damart are the thermal clothing company.....much favoured by the over seventies, and hill walkers! 
> 
> Bubble and squeak is usually, although not always, made from leftovers, mashed potato and cabbage, or Brussels sprouts, fashioned into patties and fried. 
> 
> We know Gavin is a Bowie fan, because in the opening few minutes of the film we see him in his bedroom, prominently displayed amongst his own art work are at least three Bowie albums, Hunky Dory, Low and Heroes. 
> 
> A Dansette was a portable record player of the late fifties,sixties and into the seventies. It had a closing lid and a handle on the side, and a lockable turntable. (Mine was grey, but the most popular was red!)
> 
> 'Everyone Says Hi' isn't a well known Bowie song particularly, but is appropriate here because it's about someone who has passed away, and is therefore in Yvonne's mind as she thinks about the firing squad.

CHAPTER NINE.  
B&B.

The room was a 1960's time warp. 

All G Plan furniture and floral curtains. Creaky wardrobe with matching dressing table, chest of drawers and bedside cabinets. 

Two armchairs in the bay window, which overlooked the sea front. 

Olde worlde charm but at least it was clean. 

Yvonne sat herself on the bed and bounced experimentally. 

Grunting with satisfaction. 

Gavin walked to the window and pulled back the net, gazing out into the murky darkness which now enveloped the Bay, before turning back to look at her as she began to ferret around inside her opened suitcase. 

"You can have the bed. I'll be alright here." He indicated the armchairs. 

Yvonne frowned and shook her head. 

"That's ridiculous. We can share. It's a big bed.......it's not as if anything's gonna happen.....we are both adults for heavens sake." 

Gavin went silent for a moment. 

"Well, this a is déjà vu moment to be sure! Although this is a better room than last time! Are you sure? I mean I wouldn't......." He stopped his own mouth before it ran away with him. Then thought better of it, adding, ".....you're quite safe with me.....so no need to worry on that score." 

Yvonne smiled. 

"I'm no worried!" She replied honestly, holding up what looked like a Damart ribbed undertop, with long sleeves. 

"That's alright then!" He concluded, huffing slightly before politely turning his back as she began to disrobe, saving not so much her embarrassment as his own. 

Undressing himself proved even less comfortable, mainly because she was now in the bed, covers up to her chin, watching him. 

Stripping off jumper, shirt and trousers, with his back to her, leaving on his T shirt and boxers, he hopped out of his socks and slipped in under the blankets in one fluid movement, almost overbalancing in his hurry to hide himself. 

Yvonne did her best to stifle her amusement at his obvious discomfiture. 

Laying now, side by side, ramrod straight. Sheets hauled up as far as they would go. 

"Night!" He said, somewhat grumpily, switching out the lamp on his side of the bed. 

"Night Gavin." Her hand reached out to the light on her side, and the room was plunged into darkness.

oOo

Gavin lay still in the blackness. 

He was not in the least bit sleepy. 

Nervous, jittery, on edge......yes. Sleepy? No! 

Aware of every breath, every rustle or twitch from beside him. 

All he could really see was a chink of light from the window, where the curtains didn't quite meet. 

Afraid to move. 

Eventually her quiet voice split the silence. 

"Funny creatures, sloths aren't they? Weird." 

"Eh?"

"Sloths. They're weird. Did you know they are so slow moving that green algae grows on their fur?" 

Gavin wasn't quite sure what to do with this new nugget of information, or indeed, this conversation, or even if he wanted either, so he hesitated in replying.  
She took his lack of response however, as an invitation to continue. 

"I watched a National Geographic thing.....all about sloths......it was tha fascinatin'! They have a four part stomach you know....it can take a whole month to digest one meal. Which means they only defecate once a week.....or less. Imagine that!" 

Gavin didn't want to imagine it. 

He puffed, then whispered back as kindly as he could. 

"Yvonne.....forgive me.....but is there a point to this? Only I'd quite like to get some sleep." 

"Oh....yes......sorry. Sorry........I was just trying to make you feel more at ease. Only you seem very tense." 

He felt the mattress give as she turned towards him slightly. He froze. Clutching the blankets. 

"I'm absolutely fine. But I'm tired. So I'd appreciate a bit of hush......so I can get some shut eye......" He hissed.

"Right! Yes, of course. Sorry. No more chit chat. Night then." She turned back. 

"Night." 

If Gavin hadn't been sleepy before, he was even more wide awake now. 

Lying flat on his back he was afraid he might start to snore. 

Her nearness unsettled him, that and the lack of clothing now separating them.

He closed his eyes and tried to concentrate on switching off his furiously buzzing brain. 

Thinking about his toes, and how the sheet felt against them. His calves, the right one of which still had a painful knot in it, the size of a tennis ball.  
Bare legs.....his knees, the way the covers draped against his thighs.  
Both hands were tucked in close to his body, lest he should inadvertently touch her, although every cell in his body screamed to do so........so he tried to focus on his breathing.  
Alternately pushing out, then sucking in, his tummy. Directing his thoughts to the way his chest rose and fell, as his lungs inflated, then exhaled......the air going in, then out through his nose. Letting his jaw go loose and slack, so his teeth weren't clamped tightly together. Measuring each breath in.......then letting it slowly out.......in.........and out........in.........out. 

Beside him, Yvonne sighed and turned over. 

Presenting her back to him. Drawing up her legs and snuggling her head into the pillow. 

Pretty soon he heard her own breathing rhythm begin to change. Lengthen and deepen. 

Once he was quite sure she was asleep, he risked turning over himself. 

Bringing up his knees. Making himself more comfortable. 

They lay this way for most of the uneventful night, back to back, but with a respectable gap between them, like a pair of bookends. 

Eventually drifting off, Gavin slept dreamless and untroubled until it became light. 

He woke with a sudden snort and a start. 

Unsure for a moment where he was. 

Lying......warm......comfortable.....curiously rejuvenated, listening intently. 

The cry of gulls was what he could chiefly hear. Their staccato screaming filtering through into his head.  
The sound of the seaside. It took a few seconds before he really came to. 

Yvonne wasn't there. 

Sitting up, he yawned cavernously and rubbed the sleep from his eyes with the tips of his index fingers. 

His hair was standing on end. He brushed a hand through it, flattening it down, but as soon as he let go it sprang up again. 

Beginning to whistle cheerily, he dressed himself. 

oOo

Yvonne was seated at a table laid up for two. With a red and white chequered tablecloth. 

Crunching a triangle of toast. 

Her beaming smile met him, and immediately brightened his day even more. 

Christ! He'd travel a hell of a long way, and put up with all manner of hardship, just to see that smile, he thought idly to himself. 

"You're up early!" He joined her, sitting opposite and pouring coffee from a stainless steel pot on the table. 

"Aye. I'm an early bird.....a morning person.....what about you?" 

"Hmm. Not really.....I don't usually come to until lunchtime.......not properly anyway! I like a lie in!" 

"But it's such a waste of the day......mornings are always so wonderful, sun coming up, birds singing, or early rain.....not many people about, you're missing a lot." 

Before he could respond the landlady entered and placed a plate of food in front of him. 

Gavin's eyes widened as he beheld the enormity of it. 

Fried eggs, bacon, sausage, grilled tomato, baked beans, black pudding, fried bread, mushrooms, and bubble and squeak.

"Good God! What's all this?" He gasped in astonishment. 

"The Full English!" She retorted proudly, stepping back, hands on hips, as if challenging him to a fist fight. 

"But I'm Scottish!" 

She laughed in the face of his meek response.

"Well eat it all up Jimmy.....it'll put hairs on your chest!" 

As she retreated to the kitchen, she added, over her shoulder....

"You look as if you could do with some meat on those bones anyway!" 

"Yeah....meat on my bones, not fat on my arteries!" Gavin mumbled, with his head down. 

Yvonne watched this exchange with muted amusement, then continued to scrutinise him as he picked up the cutlery and set to, as if he were about to perform open heart surgery. 

Taking an initial small bite, her companion gave a nod and a hum of approval, before proceeding to attack the plateful as if he hadn't eaten in weeks. 

She didn't speak again until he sat back with a puff, his knife and fork laid together carefully across the empty platter. 

"Was that good?" She asked, stifling her grin. 

"Bloody lovely!" Patting his burgeoning stomach contentedly. 

Swigging his coffee, to wash down the food, he looked up at her enquiringly. 

"What are you thinking about? You look glazed!" He asked. 

She smiled wistfully. 

"Just thinking about when we stayed the night at that farm the other week.....it was so funny........" 

"Hilarious!" He scoffed with bitter irony. "All I can remember is shovelling shit......." 

He did a frighteningly lifelike impression.

_"You scratch my back, n' I'll scratch yers....."_

"I was thinking more about the breakfast time......" Her voice was quiet, far away, almost dreamy. 

There was a long, protracted silence. 

"Did you ever do the slosh with Archie?" He asked suddenly, as if he were actually walking around inside her head. 

Her glance at him was sharp, almost disbelieving. 

"How did you......?" 

"Well, did you?" He pursued. 

"No." She frowned. "Archie wasn't much of a dancer." Her voice sounded sad. 

"Heck! Nor am I. But it's genetic!" Gavin chuckled. "Our generation, our upbringing......The Slosh.....it's in our DNA.......like Chopper bikes, Arctic Roll and Bowie." 

"I suppose it is! But Archie's tastes were quite different from.........." She stopped herself quickly.  
"......... I hadn't thought about it like that.......do you like Bowie then?" 

"Course I do! Legend!" 

"Well, that's something else we have in common then. He's my very favourite.....right from the start. Listening in my bedroom at home.....on my Dansette......" Her words tailed away, and she swallowed heavily. "......we'd better pack ourselves up......get back on the road......can't put it off any longer......face the firing squad.....hood over my head, tied to a post, 'any last requests'?  
I'll ask them to play _'Everyone Says Hi!'"_

Gavin tried to look as sympathetic and concerned as possible, he only managed mildly constipated. 

"It won't be as bad as all that. I'll come with you if you like......" 

"I don't think that'd be a terribly good idea......no......I have to do it alone......come on.....let's get going."


	10. Home.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Leaving Morecambe and heading for London.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A couple of notes ......  
> The cubs and scouts DYB.....Do Your Best.....DOB, Do Our Best! 
> 
> We know Gavin was into monsters and horror because we see his paintings and illustrations and the things in his bedroom at the beginning of the film. Along with his Bowie albums.

CHAPTER TEN.  
HOME. 

The further south they drove, the more sunny it seemed to become. 

Whether that was the truth or the lifting of Gavin's spirit he wasn't sure. 

Crazyhorse with her soft top down, wind in their hair, eating up the miles. 

At first Yvonne was silent, sucking travel sweet after travel sweet, staring forlornly at the fields and towns as they passed by. 

But somehow Gavin's mood was infectious, and by the time they stopped just outside Birmingham to have lunch at the _'Weary Travellers'_ she was her usual cheery self. 

This was further enhanced by the fact that Gavin asked at the desk, on the off chance that someone handed in his wallet, from the previous visit, and found that, lo and behold, they had! 

It was handed back to him.....intact.....nothing missing, and the kind person had left their address. 

Yvonne's irrepressible faith in human nature fully restored. 

"You must write to them Gavin, send them a postal order, to say thank you for being so honest." 

"I will." He replied cheerily. 

As they bombed off down the M6, filled with bonhomie, the two started singing, taking turns with each line. 

" _I love to go a wandering along the mountain track, and when I go I love to sing, with my knapsack on my back...."_

" _VAL-DERI, VAL-DERA!"_

" _VAL-DERI, VAL-DERA HA HA HA._ "

 _"HA HA HA!!!_ " 

" _VAL-DERI, VAL-DERAAAA!!_

_"My knapsack on my back!"_

"I was a Girl Guide, and a Brownie y'know!......I learned all these songs at camp. _AYE AYE YIPPEE_.......all those. Four days a year of sodden wet tents, damp sleeping bags and partially cooked food......oh and hessian lats for lavatories.....it was character building stuff!!!"

Gavin roared with laughter, almost slewing out of his lane, just as a car was overtaking him. 

"Watch yoursel.......I want to reach London with all limbs present and correct!" She squeaked. 

"Were you in the Cubs....or the Boy Scouts?" 

Gavin just gave her a withering look. 

"I guess that's a 'no' then!" She giggled. 

"Do I look like Scout material to you?" He asked. _"DYB DYB DYB.....DOB DOB DOB!!"_

He laughed again. "I wasn't the sort of kid who fitted in with stuff like that.....I was a misfit.....and proud!" 

"Were you bullied at school?" She asked, more seriously now. 

"Oh aye! If you're not very sporty and you're into Bowie, monsters and horror movies.....well, you get the crap beaten out of you on a regular basis! But I survived! All part of the rich tapestry of life, so I'm told!" 

oOo

They hit the M1 at last, the final leg of the journey. 

Gradually the traffic built up, until they slowed to a crawl. 

"I'm worried she'll overheat." Gavin said, with some concern, patting the dashboard fondly, as they inched forwards another few feet. 

No answer. 

He turned to look at his travelling companion. 

Seated beside him, her head resting on her hand against the window pane. Her eyes were closed but he knew she wasn't asleep. 

Watford, Bushey, Elstree, Edgware. 

Almost there. 

Yvonne stirred and opened her eyes. Her face pale. 

"You okay?" Gavin took his eyes off the road momentarily to look at her again. 

"Fine." She couldn't look less fine if she tried, he thought. 

"Where am I dropping you?" 

"Highgate. Near the cemetery. Dead centre of town!" She replied gloomily. 

"Really? But I live directly down the road......in Highbury.......it can't be more than 3 miles away! Fancy that......unbelievable!" 

Crazyhorse slowed and came to a halt outside a largish house which was divided into flats. 

"This is me." She said quietly. 

oOo

The daylight was fading and a large round moon rose above the rooves of the houses. 

Shining down with a silvery glow. The street was lined with plane trees, their leaves illuminated from above by the moonlight, and from below by the orange street lamps. 

A quiet hush had descended on the pair as Gavin traversed the suburban streets, each corner, each shop, every road name now familiar to Yvonne. 

The silence hung between them, a suspended wire, a tightrope, which neither could possibly walk across.  
At any moment they would topple, fall and be lost. 

Gavin's hands gripped the steering wheel hard. He suddenly felt terribly tired, and very subdued. 

Switching off the engine he puffed and leaned back in the seat, raking a hand through his hair. 

He was the luckiest man alive, to have met, spent precious time with, this wonderful person. She had shone a bright light into his dark life, washing it with an almost celestial glow.  
Made him feel things he'd never really felt before, and yet he seemed wholly unable, or unwilling to put voice to them. 

Circumstances were all wrong. 

Yet adversity had certainly thrown them together, against all odds, they had become friends. 

Yes, that's what they were. Friends. 

It was a bond that he relished. Even if that was all it would ever be. (Although he fervently hoped for more). He wanted that to continue, no matter what. To be content with what he had. Not push his luck.  
She was too good for him by far, he knew that. But he was happy just to bask in that light she exuded. Let it warm and nourish him. 

It was everything. 

Eventually one of them had to speak. 

It was him. 

"I'll help you get your stuff out of the boot." 

Unclipping his seat belt, he opened the driver's door. She didn't move. 

Walking around the back of the car, he came to the passenger side, and opened her door for her. 

"Yvonne.....you okay?" He knew the answer to the question before he even asked it, but there was no avoiding it, he had to ask. 

"I'll be alright. I'll ring Archie when I get inside. Ask him round.....I'll not put it off any longer."

She stepped out of the car onto the grass verge. Stretching her limbs. Yawning. 

Gavin heaved her bags from the back, and started up the path with them. 

"Gav.....I can do that......I can manage!" She hurried after him. 

"You wanna come in for a coffee?" 

The temptation was almost too much, but he knew it wasn't right. 

"Nah! I'll be away home. Can I have your number though? Would that be okay? I'll give you John's.......at the flat......." 

"Sure! Hang on!" She rummaged in her handbag and took out a pen and a scrap of paper, scribbling furiously. Then tore the paper in half and presented him with the pen to write his own. He added his address too, on the off chance she may need to find him....or even want to. 

Pocketing their precious missives, they stood facing each other on the doorstep, unsure of what to do next. 

Gavin was first to cave. 

"Listen, I'll let you get on......you'll be back at work Monday......it'll be like these past weeks never were, and I......." 

She stopped him, placing a hand on his arm. 

"It'll _never_ be as it was, Gavin.....never.......nothing will ever be the same again.........I'm a different person now.......this last fortnight......well, it's been.......I mean.....I hope I can call you my friend......."

He smiled broadly, interrupting. 

"Oh of course! Of course you can.....and you can ring me.....anytime.....in fact if you don't I'll be, well......" He stopped before the filter between mouth and brain let him down.

Taking that as a signal he was done, she moved into him.  
Arms threading around his middle in that curious way she had of initiating a hug, clasping her hands behind his back, just above his belt line.  
Face pressed into him, turned to the side. He practically felt the tremble as the air escaped from her lungs. 

"Thanks for everything Gavin....." Her voice was muffled against his jumper. "......I'll be in touch....I will.....but not until I've spoken to Archie and sorted things out......give me a bit of space.....yeah?" 

He bought his own arms right around her, and because she was so slight, they met and crossed allowing his hands to fasten on the edge of each opposing shoulder joint. Pinning her to him. Tightening his grip until he felt the tautness of her body give, relaxing into his.  
Giving a little groaning sigh, which made him hold her even tighter. 

"It'll be alright." He tried to sound convincing. "Whatever happens......we're friends now.....as you say.......aren't we?" 

"Definitely." 

She was pulling away, her face looking up, eyes swimming, cheeks wet. The visible tears ripped at his heart, the heart he now knew he had, but previously doubted he possessed at all. 

He knew he had it, because it was hurting so much. It leapt inside his chest as if beating a military tattoo. It was almost more than he could bear to see her thus.  
All he wanted was to tell her it'd be alright, but he couldn't, because he didn't know what would happen and couldn't bring himself to think about it.  
Nor did he want to separate from her yet, it was too soon, so he tugged her back again, rocking her slightly from side to side, rubbing her back, between the shoulder blades, before finally releasing her and stepping away. 

"See you." He whispered quietly. Voice breaking with emotion. 

"Yeah. Soon.....okay........soon." 

Reaching for her key, she opened the door, pushed her bags inside, giving a final little wave before closing it behind her. 

Gavin turned and walked away down the front path, glancing back several times. 

He felt physically sick. 

Climbing back into the Triumph, jaw set, he started the engine, revving it a couple of times before driving away. 

Yvonne leaned against the cold wood of the front door. Sliding gradually and rather ungracefully down it. Until finally she was seated, legs crumpled under her, on the doormat. 

Her body began to shake, mouth working, she dissolved into a flood of tears.


	11. Archie

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Archie arrives for the long delayed meeting with Yvonne.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter took a long time to write. 
> 
> I wanted it to not be a 'he said, she said' scenario. 
> 
> To make it easier to read, all Archie's speeches are italicised, in fact everything NOT said by Yvonne is in Italics. 
> 
> Hopefully that makes it clearer.

CHAPTER ELEVEN.  
ARCHIE. 

The door buzzer was answered almost immediately.  
It was if she'd been standing there waiting for it to ring. 

"Hello, Archie. You'd best come away in." 

She stood back to allow him to step into the hallway. He noticed her eyes were swollen and red rimmed, but declined to comment. 

The face that met hers was a mixture of confusion, hurt and anger. 

_"You made it back then.....about time_." Was his opening line. 

_"What happened to change your plans? I was all prepared to come to Euston Station yesterday."_

"They weren't _my_ plans. They were mum's. I didn't want to travel back alone, and I had the offer of a lift." 

He walked ahead of her, into the living room. Perching himself awkwardly on the sofa. 

" _That bloke you met again eh? Your mother said you'd been hanging around with him....._."

Frowning, Yvonne interrupted. 

"Archie, don't make this about Gavin. He's my friend. He's been kind, but we're not.......it's not like that between us. I've only known him a matter of a couple of weeks......he's not part of the equation as far as my actions went on the Big Day.......l prefer to keep him out of it. This is a conversation about you......and me......and what I did. Not about him......okay?" 

There was a long silence. 

_"Why Yvonne? Why? Why did you do it?_ "

She let go a puff of air, blowing out her cheeks, pursing her lips, a gesture of incomprehension, accompanied by a shrug of the shoulders.

 _"Only, I want to understand......I don't want to get shouty, or judgemental, or accusing..... but I do want to understand.......why you couldn't feel you could talk to me......I thought you loved me.....I thought we were going to be happy......it's like my whole world has been turned upside down."_

"I'm sorry......" 

Another silence. 

_"Is that all you've got to say? Sorry? Oh well that's okay then.....just so long as you're sorry...._ "

Yvonne sat down heavily on the couch, adjacent to her former fiancé. 

"I don't really know what else to say........I know nothing can make it right. And I am......truly.......sorry, I mean." 

_"As I say.....that makes it all alright then!"_ His voice rose slightly and imperceptibly.  
Becoming just a little less calm and controlled.  
_"Yvonne is sorry........sorry she left the man she's supposed to love standing at the church. Made him look a complete twat in front of all his friends and family. Sorry that she didn't have the guts to tell him beforehand that she didn't love him, sorry that she ever decided to marry him in the first place......sorry she fucked off with all the wedding present money like a common thief, and that both her own and my parents had stumped up masses of cash to pay for everything........SORRY!"_

"I'll make us some tea." 

Rising, she left the room, but Archie followed her. 

_"You're not gonna bother to defend yourself then?_ " He snarked. 

"What's the point?" Busying herself with cups and kettle, her back to him. 

Archie scoffed his incredulity. 

_"Well, I thought you'd at least have a defence all worked out, vindication for your appalling behaviour, or an EXPLANATION......or don't I even deserve that?_ " 

Turning, she regarded him with a pained expression. 

"You're doing right now what you've been doing ever since I agreed to get married!  
Already making your mind up about me, so that nothing I say will make one iota of difference.  
What the hell changed?  
I tried on numerous occasions to talk to you, to tell you I thought it was all running away with me and that we should wait........and you dismissed me.....almost treated me like it was a joke.....I quote..... _'you've just got the collywobbles, cold feet', 'you're just nervous' 'don't be so daft Yvonne!_ " 

She placed a mug of tea on the table in front of him. 

"Ok.....you asked for it.....so here goes! Hold on to your hat!" She took a deep breath, and plunged in.

"Your mother completely took over _everything_.....right from the word go.......when we got engaged I wanted to wait a bit.....have some time to enjoy it.......but no!  
_'Why wait Yvonne.....a summer wedding is the way to go.....leave everything to me!_ '  
The church was her decision, I didn't want a bloody church wedding......but she almost insisted. _'You HAVE to get married in church Yvonne.....otherwise it's as if it's not proper!'_  
The menu choice at the reception was of her choosing....and for your information, I don't even like fucking pâté!  
No one listened to my suggestions on _anything_ , and as the weeks went on I became more and more invisible.  
And I'm the BRIDE.....for God's sake!  
_Quiet little Yvonne, pliable little Yvonne! ___  
My own mum made it quite clear she didn't like the dress I'd picked.  
_'Wouldn't I prefer a crinoline style, more traditional?'_  
No, I bloody wouldn't!  
She decided that I should have my cousin Harriet's little girl as a bridesmaid.....I hate that kid Archie, she's a spoilt brat, and behaves like a little shit every time I see her!  
I was brow beaten, and cajoled, talked over and pushed down.......by them both.  
_'Dear little Yvonne....she's so sweet......she'll be a wonderful homemaker.....won't you Yvonne?_  
_A perfect mother too......_ '  
So.....my future was being planned for me as well.......give up work, be a housewife, pop out a couple of kids......this is the bloody 20th century for crying out loud." 

____

_"You never said anything.....I thought you liked all that stuff......."_

"Archie, I didn't get the _chance_ to say anything! I got stomped all over! And you never backed me up.....you just agreed to it all too.....just to keep them happy. I was marrying you.....not your bloody family......" 

_"Did you even love me? At all? Ever?_ " 

"Of course I did.....well, I thought I did...... but then, everything changed......seemed to be pulling me down. A relentless rollercoaster, and I couldn't get off.  
Every time I tried to say something I was just poo-pooed. Either by you or them, until I started to feel trapped.  
You all treated me as if I was a silly little girl who didn't know her own mind.....on anything.  
And to my eternal shame, I allowed it to happen.  
I got swept up in it all and washed away. My feet came off the ground, and I lost sight of myself in the raging torrent.  
You see, that's where they....and you.....all got me wrong, Archie.  
I DO know my own mind. And I knew it wasn't right. I wasn't in love with you enough.  
I was fond of you, but that's not sufficient foundation on which to build a marriage." 

Archie slammed his cup down. 

_"But why the fuck didn't you just say something? Why wait until the actual day and then just run off?"_

"I TRIED!" Voice louder now, almost shrill. 

" _WHEN_?" His volume matched hers, eyes blazing. 

"Two weeks before.......see.....you don't even remember, because you weren't listening! NO ONE WAS BLOODY LISTENING!" 

She flung her arms in the air as if in despair. 

Archie shut his mouth tight, thinking back furiously. 

_"I don't even recall._..." He began.

"I asked you over, told you I wanted to talk........I phoned you....at home.......on the Sunday." 

_"You didn't......."_

"I started to tell you, I was worried that I.....we, were making a mistake, that it'd all gone too far.......that I needed time to think........." She waited, eyebrows raised questioningly. "And you said.......??" 

_"I said.......wait.......I said, 'what was there to think about? We love each other!'"_ He stopped, mind working, desperately trying to recall the conversation. But Yvonne chimed in, taking up his own words and firing them back at him....

"...... _'Either you want to get married or you don't' 'it's too late now, everything's all arranged.....no going back' 'money spent, outfits bought, stuff ordered' 'it'll be fine, just last minute jitters, everything would be fine' 'we're going to be husband and wife....for better or worse! _'"__

____

Watching her now, eyes wide, mouth gaping but silent, as a single tear coursed down the side of her nose slowly, traversing her lips, before dripping from the end of her chin. 

"I couldnae go through with it Archie. I couldnae. And I'm so sorry. Really sorry. I'm. Sorry." 

She was weeping openly now.

 _"But to just run away......._ " His voice was hushed now, almost a whisper. " _.....without a word......bloody hell Yvonne.....no one knew what had happened to you.......if you were ill, or had an accident.......it was a shitty thing to do....._ "

"I _know_! At the time, I felt like I had no choice. I just had to get away from it all, I had to give myself time to think......so I ran......I'm not proud of myself........" 

" _.....and the money......"_ He continued as if he hadn't heard her speak at all. _".......you took all the wedding money.......what were you gonna do with it? It wasn't yours to take......_." 

"That's why I didn't touch it. I took it because I didn't know at that moment what I was going to do, or where I was going to go. I had no ready cash I could lay my hands on.....so I took that.....it was for a dire emergency only.  
Archie, there were many times on the journey up to Scotland when I could have damn well used that money.  
It would have got me and Gavin out of many a seemingly hopeless scrape.....especially when he was desperate to reach his family on time......but I didn't......because I knew it was wrong.....surely you know me well enough to know how honest I am?  
I wouldn't have stolen it, and had I broken into it, then I'd have paid it all back......I know your mother thinks I'm a good-for-nothing felon, a wicked conniving bitch. That's why she sent the Polis after me, once she found out I'd left.  
But I'm not.  
The envelope is here. It's all there. You can count it. Not one farthing has been spent." 

She handed it over. 

_"I don't care about the money.......mother might, but I don't........_ " 

"Well! It must all be given back. Returned. It was given as presents to a wedding that didn't take place. It wouldn't be right to keep it. I certainly don't want it anyway." 

_"....this Gavin. You speak of him as if he's someone who means a lot to you......_ " 

"Gavin is a friend. He helped me. He took care of me I suppose, well, we took care of each other.  
We're not in a relationship, well not like that anyway. But he was there. Simple as that. He has nothing to do with what happened on our wedding day." 

_"But you like him though? Your mother told my mother you've been seeing him.......just like that....just after you were supposed to be marrying ME! How do you think that makes me feel?_  
_It's like I've been supplanted by this tosser......what's he got that I haven't??"_

"I _have_ been seeing him, we've spent quite a lot of time together over the last couple of weeks.....he's been there for me......he made me feel........I dunno.......different.......but he's a friend, we're not a couple.  
Archie, I'm fond of you......I am.......you're a lovely guy. You deserve more than I can give you.  
Gavin doesn't want anything from me, but I think he understands.......right now I need space, I need to think, I don't need any pressure, or threats or entreaties......I just need time.  
I made a terrible mistake, and people were hurt, you most of all.  
I have to come to terms with that......I'm being honest with you here, I don't want to feel trapped, or made to feel guilty, I can do a good enough job of that for myself.  
In fact I feel like shit. Because I've done an unforgivable thing.  
But I cannae be with you, I just can't.  
That's the truth of it." 

" _So that's it then. You're bailing completely. No going back. I must admit I expected more from you._  
_After the way you behaved I thought you'd be begging for my forgiveness. Instead of which I find that not only did you run out on me on our wedding day, but you ran straight into the arms of another guy! So, that tells me all I need to know about what you're actually like, heartless and unfeeling......and how you really felt about me! I sure hope this Gavin is worth it.....and that he has a very thick skin....."_

He stood up, as if to take his leave. Yvonne pointedly did not respond to this thinly veiled insult. 

"My stuff......the bits that are at your flat......would you be able drop them back for me?" She asked him tentatively, as he moved down the hallway. 

_"No! If you want them back you'll have to come and get them yourself......_ "

"Your door key, the one you had cut for me.....it's in the envelope with the money." 

_"Nothing! Not even a word to say! I've hit the nail on the head with your new 'friend' then.....no words necessary.....I can see how things stand!"_

"You've made up your mind Archie. I'm not going to bother to correct you. It's a waste of time." 

" _Fine. I'll look forward to seeing you when you decide to come and collect your things then."_

"You're not going to make this easy for me are you?" 

_"Why should I do that? After what you did?"_

He reached the front door, one hand poised on the latch. 

"I get that you seek to punish me......but is it going to make you feel better?" 

_"Probably not, but I think you deserve a bit of pain, after what you've put me through! I'm not a generally a vindictive person, but you want your cake and eat it Yvonne, and that's not fucking fair!_ " 

Her tone was quiet, controlled and resigned. 

"Okay Archie, have it your own way. I'm not going to argue with you.  
You know, I dreaded coming back here, I lived in fear of facing you, after what I'd done, I did almost anything I could to put it off, even though I knew it would have to happen eventually.  
I felt so bad.  
So very sorry.  
But I'm not afraid anymore, and to feel anger towards you is a waste of precious energy.  
So, have your moment of triumph if you think it'll help.  
When I'm ready I'll arrange to collect my things. Perhaps you could box them up for me, there are books that were grandads, things of sentimental value. So I would like them back.  
If you think that being unkind and difficult will bring me crashing down, then you carry on. Much joy may it bring you.  
I did what I thought was right.  
To spare you unhappiness, as much as myself, it would never have worked Archie.......you were in love with the _idea_ of me, and with being married, and I think in your heart of hearts that you knew it wasn't right either, but you were just as swept up in it all as I was......and that's why you're not as devastated as you might otherwise have been.  
I think that's the truth of it.  
But to admit that to yourself, makes what I did, less bad. So you don't want to do that. That's fine.  
My dad said he'll be in touch with yours to help sort out the money. I'll try to pay him back some of what he's lost, I'll save up. There's nothing more to be said Archie.  
So I'll wish you good night." 

Opening the street door, she stepped back to allow him to pass through. 

" _You really are a cold fish Yvonne. You know that! Your loss will be some other lucky lady's gain!"_

He was gone.

Yvonne closed the door, bolted it tight, and went to the living room. Her hand felt for the scrap of paper with Gavin's number on it. Fingers hovering over the receiver for several seconds.  
Before sighing.  
Turning away, and going to the kitchen to wash up the tea cups.


	12. Gavin.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gavin Bellini is moping!

CHAPTER TWELVE.  
GAVIN. 

Gavin Bellini was moping. 

It had been several days now and no word from Yvonne. 

No call. No nothing. 

In between moping, he'd spent a good deal of time, shut up in the flat, with his sketching materials and paints spread out over the carpet in the living room. 

The results of all this enforced melancholy and drawing, was a fully formed children's story.  
It was about a youngster who didn't fit in, moving to a new area, being bullied, but finding a mischievous magical sprite in the garden, who helped him find his way, building his confidence and showing him that being a little different from the rest could be a very good thing. 

He was immensely proud of it. 

Considering it to be by far the best thing he'd ever done. 

John came home from work to find him flopped on the couch, feet up, languid and boneless, stuffing his face with crisps. 

"Hiya! Good day?" He asked sleepily, crumbs spilling out down the front of his shirt. 

"Yes! Quite productive actually.......I can see you've been productive too.......helping the local mouse population with your salt 'n' vinegar droppings!" 

Gavin jumped up and immediately started brushing up the mess, his face, he hoped, suitably contrite. 

"Heard from that lassie yet?" His friend moved through to the kitchen, and began unpacking a bag of groceries he'd brought in with him. 

"Not a dickie bird. It's been days now." Was the sullen reply.

John frowned. 

"Then why don't you ring her?" 

Gavin huffed disconsolately, and shrugged his shoulders. 

"She said she needed space......" 

"Gav......seriously! You are in danger of going into a catatonic state! You've been lying around, miserable, irritable, and thoroughly annoying. You're wearing grubby clothes, you haven't been eating properly and your hair needs a wash!  
I'm sick of hearing the words _'Yvonne says this' 'Yvonne says that' 'Yvonne, Yvonne, Yvonne'._  
It's like a rusty record!  
Ring her! Tell her the truth.......you love her!  
Do it, before I murder you, chop you up into bits and put you in the cupboard under the stairs in a bin bag!" 

The response was an exasperated scoff. 

"That's not tr.......I don't......I'm not in.......we're not even......" He stammered, running his hands distractedly through his mop of rather greasy hair. 

"Nonsense. You've been like this ever since you got back from Scotland.  
Like a runt puppy in a pet shop window.......mooning about, all sorry for yourself, hoping someone will buy you and take you home.....flopping onto a chair with a great big sigh one minute, muttering to yourself under your breath the next, taking out unnecessary anger and frustration on inanimate objects the next.......you're driving me bonkers...... _BLOODY DO SOMETHING_!" 

"What inanimate objects......?" Quite why Gavin chose to focus on this particular accusation, John wasn't sure. 

"The cushions......you were thumping them with your fists the other day......then you kicked the chair where you're sitting now.....because you said it was responsible for stubbing your toe.....and yesterday you threw a manic wobbly with the hoover........to name but three......" 

Gavin harrumphed, crossly. 

"Yvonne said that hoovering was a great stress reliever.......anyway.......I thought you'd be pleased I'd done it......." 

John turned mimic, with a sarcastic smile.

"Yvonne said....... _blah blah blah_!!!" 

He knew his friend was right about what he'd been like, even if he was wrong about him being in love. That was just pure nonsense.  
You didn't fall in love with a person that quickly.  
He liked Yvonne very much.  
Her smile made his stomach go all funny, and his heart to beat fast.  
When he held her in a hug he felt lightheaded......and incredibly lucky. 

Fortunate to even be in her presence, let alone that close. 

Then there was the annoying fact that she was in his thoughts constantly.  
Every waking moment, and probably some sleeping ones too. 

But that was because he admired and respected her, they got on well, he felt comfortable with her.......wasn't it? 

He voiced these thoughts to his flatmate, in his most convincing manner. The response was pure sarcasm. 

"Right! Oh, of course Gavin! That's what it is! Pardon me! I've got it completely wrong! Silly of me." 

"Don't take the piss......." 

"Sorry.......not in love in any way, shape or form.....nope.....not at all.....oblivious....impervious...." 

_"John......._!!" There was a warning tone to his voice. 

"......immune.......not sitting waiting impatiently for a call from her, not thinking about her constantly. In fact, hardly really aware of her at all......." 

"Oh fuck off!" 

His friend laughed heartily. 

"Anyway......what _HAVE_ you actually achieved today, apart from First Level Apathy?" 

"Ha ha! For your information......I've almost finished the illustrations for my book......and.....though I say so myself.....they are really rather good......." Gavin stuck two fingers up. 

"Charming! Come on then.....show us......!" 

Together, the two flatmates sat on the sofa, as the finished artwork was perused. 

The noises John was making sounded most encouraging. 

"You're not wrong Gav........these are quite something.......I'd go as far as to say, I think they are inspired..... you might actually have something here. Wow! I'm impressed. Well done you!" 

"Told you!" Gavin was triumphant. "Now all I have to do is get someone interested who's in publishing!" 

"You will Gavin. I know you will. You've really got something here. You really have!" 

oOo

It was Saturday.

A whole week had passed. 

Morning peeped through the chink in the curtains as Gavin Bellini opened his eyes on the new day. 

Yawning, he reached behind him and drew them back, letting the sunshine stream in. 

He felt curiously alive. 

Wired. 

From somewhere deep in the bowels of the flat he could hear the insistent ringing of the telephone. 

It took a few moments for the sound to really filter and sink in. 

The phone was ringing. 

_Shit! It might be Yvonne!_

A flurry of flapping movement ensued, as he tried to rise quickly, catching a foot in the bedclothes, stumbling and falling, scrambling to get up, tipping over a glass of water on his bedside table, which proceeded to cascade down like a waterfall, into a pool on the floor, as he tried desperately to free himself, stand, and then run. 

The ringing stopped. 

"FUCK!" He exclaimed. 

A tap on his door, followed by John's head, peering in. 

"Gav......it's for you!" He said aloud, then mouthed dramatically.....

 _"I think it's her......._!" 

Before bursting into laughter at the sight of his friend, in a tangle of sheets, seated on the floor in the wet puddle, swearing under his breath.

Extricating himself finally, pulling his damp boxers out of his arse crack ignominiously, he made his way to the phone on the wall in the hallway. Walking bow-legged, like an ancient old farmer with rickets. 

Taking a deep breath to collect himself, he picked up the receiver, which John had left dangling. 

"Hello?" His voice was urgent, half excitement, half panic. 

"Hello? Gavin?" 

"Yvonne......hi! How's things?" 

Christ! Why was he trying to be bloody nonchalant? What was that all about? All he wanted to do was bombard her with questions...... _how was she? What had happened with Archie? Was she okay? How had work been all week?_ And a hundred more.  
His heart was hammering so hard it was almost painful. 

Instead he waited. 

Silence. 

Was she waiting too? 

"Yvonne? You still there?" 

He knew she was because he could hear her laboured breathing. Hell's bells! Was she crying? 

"Yvonne......talk to me! I'm here. What can I do?" 

Her voice seemed tiny. Far away. Desperately sad. 

"It's my birthday." She whispered. 

He could hear her sniffing now. Little intakes of breath as she fought for control. Clearly upset. 

"Right! Give me half an hour to jump in the shower and get dressed.......I'll be with you......"

Silence. (Apart from more copious sniffling.)

" _Yvonne?_ " 

"Okay!" A pause. "Thank you." 

"I'm on my way.......alright? Listen! Don't cry.......half an hour.......tops!" 

He was at her doorstep in twenty-five minutes.


	13. Birthday.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gavin helps Yvonne celebrate her birthday.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Throughout this story, I have tried to keep an element of humour, the tone of the film is decidedly comedic and I didn't want to lose that.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN.  
BIRTHDAY.

A few cards through the post. Phone call from Dad....during which mum just called out ' _Happy Birthday_ ' in the background. Great! So not forgiven then! 

No Archie.....of course. But no friend to pop in either. Nothing special at all really. 

Just another day. 

On each previous day during the week, Yvonne, had, at some point, held that scrap of paper containing Gavin's number, a trembling hand hovering over the telephone. 

Just to hear the friendly accent. 

Didn't really matter what he said. 

But she didn't. Stopped herself. Almost as if it were self flagellation. Archie had made her feel so utterly wretched about herself, that to phone Gavin then, would be like giving herself a reward.  
One she didn't deserve. 

But today.....?

Today she couldn't hold out any longer. 

Desperate for some modicum of warmth. 

'Wasn't it cruel anyway?', she chided herself, leaving him dangling on the end of a string, as if he were her puppet?  
Or, worse still, a pet, or plaything.  
There at her beck and call. 

At the end of the line when she _did_ want him, shut out when she didn't. 

What did that make her? A worse person than ever. 

What a miserable bloody day! 

oOo

She caved. Spectacularly. 

It was so good to hear his voice. 

Gavin didn't really stop to think. Nor did he much care about the logistics. 

She needed him. That's what friendship was all about. Wasn't it? 

Whatever thoughts or feelings he might have, he would put them on the back burner for now, and simply be there. 

And there he was. 

On the doorstep. 

With a big bunch of yellow sunflowers tucked under his arm. 

He'd prepared a little speech, something to say as she opened the door.....present her with the bouquet, wish her Happy Birthday. Tell her she looked nice. 

As it happened, the door flung back at his ring and everything went out of the window. 

She launched herself. 

Crushing both him and the flowers. 

Arms around his neck, her wet face pressed against his. Feet off the ground. 

It was several seconds before she was lowered gently down onto her toes, back on terra firma, pulling away, wiping her eyes with a tissue. 

There were so many things he wanted to say. Hundreds. 

She was the same, but her tongue seemed to cleave to the roof of her mouth, muting her. 

"Get your coat!" Was all he managed. 

Both flowers and Crazyhorse were abandoned. 

They took the tube to Kew. 

oOo

It was a bright, sunny day. The heat of the sun not fully apparent, but great for the time of year. 

Neither really spoke much on the underground, as it clattered along on the District Line. It was packed until Victoria, then the carriage emptied out considerably.  
Sitting side by side she leaned her head against his arm. 

He let her. 

It felt nice. 

He knew she was boiling inside with the need to speak, but he decided on silence himself.  
Patience.  
When he peered down at her, her eyes were closed, almost as though she were asleep. 

Gently, he slid an arm around her shoulder. Not tight. But just to let her feel that he was there. 

She let out a little sigh. Nuzzling her face against his coat just a tiny bit more. 

That was it. 

 

Gavin found an Off Licence.......and a Tesco's. 

Long overcoat spread out on the grass. Large enough for them both to sit on. 

Sandwiches. An apple and banana each. A bottle of cheap plonk which they swigged straight from the bottle. 

"Happy Birthday!" He ventured once more. 

Her face was pained as she looked up at him. 

"Sorry......." 

"Yvonne.....for fucks sake! Stop saying sorry! It _really_ is a word you overuse! You have nothing whatever to be sorry about to me......okay? Now, cheer up.....it's your birthday......and that's special!" 

She laughed sarcastically. 

"It wasn't.....not until you turned up anyway! Thank you Gav.......I really appreciate..... _this_....!" 

Waving her hand dramatically, taking in the sweep of the massed flower beds, a riot of Spring colour, the trees over and around them, just coming into leaf, the beautiful Victorian palm house with its tropical delights inside.....the whole thing.

"....... _this_.......is special!" 

Wine gone, they lay back against the silk lining of Gavin's coat.  
Shoulders touching.  
Staring up at the sky overhead. 

Turning onto his side, propped on an elbow, he regarded this little woman thoughtfully. 

Her eyes roved, scanning the heavens above her, watching the puffs of cloud overhead. 

Pretty floral dress and a little blue cardigan.  
Bare legs. Blue pumps. Nice perfume. 

He found himself smiling. 

"What's your game?" She enquired, quietly, not turning her head, but seemingly aware of his scrutiny. "You're grinning like a Cheshire Cat!" 

"Oh nothing! Just admiring the view!" 

Reaching out, he brushed a stray lock of hair back from her face. 

"That's better!" He said. 

"I feel trollied!" Turning onto her side too, facing him. "That stuff is lethal!" 

"I know.....not exactly the finest vintage......but it hits the parts others can't reach, as the ad says!"

Her laugh was genuine. Lighting up her whole face. 

His heart leapt to see it. 

"That's more like it!" He smiled. "It's good to see you cheerful again. Even if mildly pished! Dare I ask how it went with Archie? Or would you rather not say?" 

"Och!" She exploded." I'm no talking about him today! Or any of those other numpties! It was nothing more than I expected......completely horrible......and I'm gonnae look for another job.....I cannae stand all the back sniping and snide comments. Ma back is fulla holes, I've bin stabbed that many times! Who needs it?" 

Gavin turned over onto his back again with a huff of agreement, crossing one long leg lazily over the other. 

"I suppose it can't have been a surprise. Just to be expected. People are idiots Yvonne. They can't help themselves. I'm probably in the same bracket......but I'm working on it......I am......"

One hand lay across his chest, as if measuring his own breathing. The other, palm up, at his side. 

They lay thus for several minutes. 

Neither speaking, but both brains tumbling in unison with a mass of thoughts and feelings. 

Exactly when her small hand covered his, he wasn't quite sure.

Only slowly coming to the awareness of the feel of her warm skin against his own. 

Breath sucked in and held. 

Their fingers joining, feeling for the right fit, before interlocking, dovetailing, and squeezing tight. 

Gavin had the distinct impression of falling. 

As if he were being slowly drawn down into the earth beneath him. Through the grass and soil. Spinning in circles, like Alice down the rabbit hole.  
Stomach lurching as it does when a fairground ride is about to take its most terrifying plunge. 

He closed his eyes. 

A thick pulse registered in his temples. It made a whomping sound in his ears. A throb of nervous adrenaline, which made him feel light headed, and grateful to be supine. 

The hand that held his seemed so small. Swamped by his own. Her thumb stroking the base of his.  
A gesture of......of what? Hope? Affection? He neither knew nor cared. 

Letting out the breath he'd been holding with a little noise of contentment. 

He was lost. 

As for Yvonne, the moment was almost an accident. Stretching out her own hand and making unexpected contact with his.  
The connection was like a passing bolt of electricity. 

Crackling between them. 

AC/DC. A current flowing through invisible power lines, grounding them both. 

Such long, elegant fingers, they felt like a security blanket as they curled around her own, wrapping them in a cocoon of safety.  
So comfortable. So right. Bringing a feeling of great peace and tranquility after so much angst. 

She had the sensation that he was anchoring her. 

Preventing her from melting away into nothing, like the Wicked Witch in Wizard of Oz when Dorothy threw water over her.

Holding her fast, as if she were a small boat in a walled harbour, where the violence of the open sea couldn't touch her, nor yet smash her to pieces. 

She was crying. But silently. 

Not sure if it were the effect of the wine, or her own shattered emotions. 

The sky wheeled heedlessly above them, two minuscule beings in a vast unfathomable cosmos. 

Alone, and yet fused together. 

Even if everything else fell away, she thought, they would somehow still remain. 

Securely fastened by their clasped hands. 

"Best Birthday ever." She whispered. 

"I'm glad." He replied simply.

oOo

Gavin drifted. 

It can only have been a few moments, becoming drowsy, sleep overtaking him.  
Jaw lose, chin relaxed. 

Aware of nothing other than the warm sunshine and the feel of her fingernails resting in his palm. 

A blissful serenity. 

A dozen pigeons flew over their heads, startled into sudden flight by a small yapping terrier. With a flurry of wings and frantic cooing, they took off as one. 

The wetness hit him like a bolt from the blue.....literally. 

Pebble dashing the left leg of his trousers, and up the front of his shirt.

Gavin shot up like a bullet. Shattering the peaceful moment between the couple. 

" _Holy fuck_!" He shrieked, in a most unmanly way.

Yvonne scrambled to her feet too, wondering what on earth had happened. 

She stood in dismay, as he mournfully surveyed his front and side.

Liberally besmirched with bird shit.

Clamping her hands over her mouth, eyes wide......she began to laugh.....the laugh turned into a wheeze, which became a series of squeaks and guffaws, her face pink with hilarity. 

Gavin looked from her, to his own shirt, angrily. Violently protesting his bad fortune. 

"They say it's good luck......" She breathed, bursting again hysterically. Bending herself in the middle as her sides ached. 

"Fucking good luck for whom???" He snapped, mopping at himself fruitlessly with a paper tissue. 

"STOP! GAVIN! DON'T! You'll make it worse......here......let me...." 

Without ceremony, she grabbed the leg of his trousers as he flapped distractedly, tugging the material taut, she began sponging him down with a cotton handkerchief from her bag, dowsed in water from their bottle. 

Gavin stood......frozen......rigid with either fear or mortification, or both, as her hands scrubbed vigorously at his left thigh.  
Yvonne seemed completely unfazed, and blissfully unaware of the effect she was having on him, continuing to dab at the stain until there was a large wet patch.....which looked frighteningly like he'd been recently incontinent.....but no white bird poop......

.......she then moved up to his shirt.......unfastening three buttons.  
Sucking in his ribs with a gasp, he surveyed his own chest, mesmerised but also seemingly petrified, following the movement of her fingers, swallowing heavily, biting his bottom lip, as she pushed one hand through the gap she'd made, to keep the damp material away from his skin, before repeating the exercise as she had for his leg, until all vestiges of the crap were gone. 

Gavin held his breath throughout the whole procedure. 

Almost turning purple, hands held away from his body helplessly, as he was attended to. 

Standing back to admire her handiwork, she caught his eye, and he exhaled sharply. 

"All done!" She beamed. "What's wrong?" 

"Nothing!" He puffed. "Nothing whatever......I'm fine....... _now_." 

His eyes looked so astonishingly clear and greeny blue, gaze so perplexed, his brows furrowed with bewilderment. A whole raft of expressions that made him look so terribly vulnerable somehow, that she was forced to look away. 

Blushing furiously, she turned her back, now realising the potential intimacy of what she'd just done......what she'd done so easily and without a second thought.......hurriedly beginning to busy herself with gathering up the detritus of their makeshift picnic. 

"Shall we walk!" She suggested, shyly. "You'll soon dry off......"

The spell was utterly broken.


	14. Closer.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What happens after the birthday. 
> 
> Gavin receives some news.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The first part of this chapter is a straightforward telephone conversation.  
> Two people, chatting, as you do.  
> As before, everything NOT said by Yvonne is in italics. 
> 
> The lunch part came from a scene I remember in a film called Two Weeks Notice. Which starred Sandra Bullock and Hugh Grant. The point of the narrative here is really to highlight how well they know each other, without really realising it, and how comfortable they are.
> 
> For the officianados 'Bram Stoker's Dracula' came out in 1992.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN.  
CLOSER. 

**Part of a telephone conversation between Yvonne and her old school friend back in Scotland.......**

"Thanks for the birthday card hen......it was funny!" 

" _That's ok.....did ye have a good day?"_

"I did actually.....it was lovely......Gavin and I went to Kew.....a kinda impromptu picnic......it was fun!" 

_"That's great. Doing anything this weekend?"_

"Yeah......Gavin's taking me to the pictures......and for a bite to eat......" 

_"Sounds great! What're yeez seeing?"_

"Bram Stokers Dracula......Gary Oldman's in it......."

_"Eww! Not my thing!"_

"I love it.....Gavin's really into monsters and horror movies and stuff.....the old Hammer ones especially, y'know?" 

_"I don't like the creepy stuff.....gives me the heeby-jeebies._ "

"I don't mind it.....Dracula is more sinister.....in a good way......gives your spine a tingle!" 

_"You talk an awful lot about this Gavin, Yvonne.......you mention him practically every sentence.....you two seeing now then?"_

____

"Depends what you mean by seeing?" 

_"You know......dating? Going steady? Walking out? Courting? You know exactly what I bloody mean....."_

"It's nothing like that. We're friends. We get on well......I like him. He's kind.....and he's thoughtful too......" 

_"Christ! You're sodding well in love with him!"_

"Rubbish! You know me better than that Lucy.......that would be really, really stupid....."

 _"Aye Yvonne.....it would be incredibly foolish of you to become involved with a guy so soon after what's just happened between you and Archie......_ "

"It would. That's why I'm not!" 

_"Yeah.....monumentally dumb to fall for the cute guy who picked you up on the motorway when you were running away from your own wedding......spectacularly idiotic.......the perfect man who's sweet, kind, thoughtful, and besotted with you.....who brings you flowers, comes running every time you crook your index finger, and threats you like a princess.....totally mental..........by the way......is he handsome perchance too.....?"_

"Yeah......I guess.......he's got lovely eyes.......and his hair is kinda wavy and soft......"

_"Hmmm......best not fall in love with him then......if I were you......worst possible move......"_

"Oh stop it Luce! He's nice.....I told you that......doesn't mean I feel like that about him.....it would be crazy to get involved with a bloke right at this moment...." 

_"Exactly! And on the rebound......_."

"He's got beautiful hands too.......long fingers.......artistic.....that's what he does......graphic artist....I've not seen his stuff yet though........"

_"He's not invited you in to show you his etchings then, Yvonne?"_

"Lucy.....you are incorrigible.....and you have a filthy mind......it really isn't like that between us....."

 _"Phew! Good job you're not in love with him then......with all that going for him.....might be quite a catch! Then where would you be?"_

"He's a bit of a stress head......you know......gets all aeriated......arms flapping about......Italian....I find it quite funny......he makes me laugh......" 

" _Amusing too? God....he sounds like a right tosser......you've certainly done the right thing there my dear....keeping him at arms length......sensible girl!"_

"I'm gonna hang up now.....coz you're not funny.....and you're not my friend!" 

_"Hahahahaha! You love me really! Who else would tell it to you like it is? Eh?"_

"It isn't like it is! Okay? You're wrong! Listen, seriously though, I have to go.....but it's bin great chatting...." 

_"Alright hen. Catch you in a coupla days! Good luck with the job huntin'. Bye!_ " 

"Bye yourself! Have a good week!" 

oOo

In the days and weeks following Yvonne's birthday, Gavin was floating. 

Cloud nine. 

At least a foot above the ground. 

Walking along beside her, her arm threaded through his. Just strolling. 

Enough to keep him in a state of perpetual well being for several days. 

They met more regularly now. 

Somehow they just fell into a pattern. 

Like an old favourite comfy jumper, or a pair of well worn shoes. 

Cinema perhaps, or a meal, or simply shopping and a walk. 

Sometimes he would place a comforting arm around her shoulder, sometimes her arm would link through his.  
Occasionally their hands would meet and clasp, the fingers interlocking, fitting neatly, swinging gently as they walked, yet neither party made reference to it.  
Quite the opposite in fact. 

Just accept. 

Not question. 

Be comfortable. 

It was okay. 

The main result of all this protracted sense of contentment was two fold.....

Gavin worked hard. Very hard indeed. Harder than he'd ever worked before. 

Letters were sent out to every publisher he could think of, his illustrations now complete. 

He showed the finished mock ups to Yvonne, and was stunned by her reaction. 

It was heartfelt and genuine. 

"My _God_! But these are wonderful Gavin......wow.......you have such a talent!" 

Gavin Bellini thought his head would explode with pride. 

Yvonne, meanwhile, was interviewed and accepted into a new post, having worked out her months notice, she very much wanted to leave the ghost of Archie behind, moving forward. Although she had yet to pluck up courage to collect her possessions from him. 

Today the pair were meeting for lunch. 

A comparatively rare occurrence, but nevertheless an extremely pleasant one. 

They chatted easily over their meal. 

"So, how's the new job going?" 

Gavin pushed his platter towards her with a nod of consent, allowing her to slide approximately a third of his chips onto her own plate. 

"No bad.....the people are nice and my new boss......Tony Faraday.....he's a lovely guy. Married, two children......very friendly....." 

As she spoke, Yvonne opened her burger, by removing the top of the bun, motioning to him with a flick of her eyes, then waiting patiently as Gavin reached his fork across to take off the slices of gherkin resting there, removing them without comment, pushing them into his mouth with a grunt of approval, as she grimaced at his obvious relish. 

He handed her his own pot of tomato sauce to dip her chips into, and happily accepted her mayo in exchange.

All without a word passing between them. 

"What about your letters.....any replies yet?" 

Gavin shook his head. 

"Too soon.....I'll give it at least another week." 

The waitress brought their drinks. 

"Heard from your parents.....? Mum forgiven you yet?" 

Again, without any conscious thought, Gavin fished into his Coke with a teaspoon, removing the ice cubes, and dropped them into hers. 

"Spoke to her on the phone yesterday.......it was actually quite civil.....she even asked how you were!" 

Yvonne, in turn, equally as naturally, using her drinking straw as a rod, captured her lemon slice, before plopping it into Gavin's glass, then sucking on her fingers. 

"Blimey! Things are looking up! Thank goodness for that! Has she finally decided I'm not the fiancee stealing ne'er do well she once thought me?" 

Yvonne laughed out loud, making Gavin beam with pleasure. 

"Who knows? I think what she HAS realised, is that there'll be no reconciliation with Archie....so she's resigned herself."

Dessert arrived......one......with two spoons. In the centre of the table. 

They shared, mouthful for mouthful, until it was gone. 

oOo

Once outside, Gavin helped her on with her coat, before she turned pointedly to face him.

There was an eagerness about her today. Jittery. Like a cat on hot bricks.  
A sense that she was standing on the brink of a precipice, breathing rapidly, steeling herself, ready to nosedive. 

"That was really lovely. Thank you Gav!" She smiled. "I have to get back to work.....but shall I see you tomorrow?" 

Her hand darted out, resting upon his sleeve lightly, the fingers curled into the soft material, staying him, her face tilted up toward his, expectantly. 

Shuffling his feet, uncertain.

Not sure what her eyes were saying, soft and kind as they were, almost inviting. Gavin searched that look desperately. 

Why was it so difficult? He never really knew. Couldn't really read. No matter how hard he tried. 

Gaze flicking finally to her mouth.  
Focussing there, such pretty lips, puckered ever so slightly, her tongue passing over them temptingly, leaving them glistening.  
There was a painful lurch in his chest, a little like a small grenade going off.  
Without knowing it, he raised his eyebrows, furrowing his forehead, asking a question. 

She was waiting for something.....was that it? 

What did she want him to do? 

Gavin swallowed. 

Leaning down, taking her elbows as he did so, holding them firmly. He lifted her slightly towards him, as he bent himself down closer. 

She seemed to reach upwards at the same moment, craning her neck, making an offer. 

As he closed in, now only millimetres away, he could feel her breath tickling under his chin, aware that her eyelids fluttered shut......

...... _oh fuck_.......

.......he bottled it.......veering to the side at the very last moment. 

Planting a kiss on her left cheek. There was a little circle of the palest blush, about the size of a two pound coin, amid fine downy hair like the velvet skin of a ripe peach.

It was a mere second or two at most.

Lips connecting, touching her soft flesh, then pulling away hurriedly as if she burned him. 

Awkward. 

Flushed, gauche in the extreme. 

At first he thought he spotted the momentary flash of disappointment cross her mien. But if he did, it was fleeting.  
By the time he could breath freely again, collect himself, she was smiling. 

Her whole face illuminated with a glow of warmth, which spread down towards her neck as he watched. 

Elation swept over him, his heart soared. 

"I'll be late." She whispered, voice reed thin, as if struggling to find it. "See you tomorrow?" 

"Yeah." 

She released him from the spell. Moving away, still grinning shyly, straightening her jacket, tucking her handbag onto her shoulder. 

Crossing the road in front of them at a trot, as he watched dumbly. Beaming stupidly at her. 

Turning, she waved, and he waved back.....like a glove puppet. 

Christ! His mouth was on fire!  
He traced his own lips with two fingers, just to make sure they were still there. 

What just happened? 

Was his face melting? 

His legs didn't seem to want to function. Knees as weak as water. 

Eventually, as he lost sight of her round the street corner, he managed to turn, force himself to walk, stumbling homeward. 

Letting himself into the flat, there was a rather official looking letter lying on the doormat. 

Bending, he picked it up, examining the envelope closely.  
It was addressed to him right enough. 

But it was too soon.....surely? 

His fingers trembled as he tore it open, drawing out the typed correspondence it contained. 

Eyes scanning at first before homing in on the letter heading. 

_"Hartland and Featherstone Ltd. Publishers._ " 

Gavin thought he might pass out. Leaning heavily against the wall, he read. Clutching the paper in both hands. 

They wanted to see him.....

Already in a heightened state of emotion, Gavin burst into tears.


	15. Northbound

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> On their way to Glasgow.....again!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little bit of jumping around in this chapter, which I hope you can follow. 
> 
> The description of the train journey, I hope @tardisnamedjack will recognise. It's the mental picture I've retained from our journey the other week, which I hope I've painted suitably well.  
> I've attempted to write it in the rhythm of the train, which is a nod to the R L Stevenson poem of my childhood. 'From a Railway Carriage.' 
> 
> The interview scene is based heavily on the same scene from the film, where Gavin visits 'Pumpkin Books'. He wears the same suit.....it's his best! Pretty much going through the same ritual.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN.  
NORTHBOUND. 

_Today...._

Gavin settled back into his seat, leaning against the head rest. 

He felt sick.

Closing his eyes, allowing his breath to escape slowly, as the train began to pull away. 

Euston station. 

_"This is the 18.15 service to Glasgow Central, calling at Milton Keynes, Rugby, Crewe, Wigan, Preston, Lancaster, Carlisle and Glasgow Central._  
_Cafeteria services are available on this train, and are situated in coach C._  
_Welcome aboard the 18.15 service to Glasgow Central."_

Beside him, a quiet voice. 

Leaning forward, peering at him, her face one of sympathy and concern. 

"Gav? You okay? It'll be alright......." 

Her warm hand closing atop his as it lay on the armrest. 

He tried to smile, but somehow he just couldn't manage it. 

oOo

_Previous week......._

Once he'd come back down to earth, Gavin read and reread the letter. 

Then he read it again, just to be sure. 

Unbelievable. 

Dazed, he moved through the flat and reached for the telephone. Dialling with a finger which shook almost uncontrollably.  
She'd be home by now.  
Couldn't think of anyone else he'd rather share the news with. 

It was ringing.

"Hello?" 

"It's me!" 

"Gav? What's wrong? You okay..? You sound shaky." 

"I am. I've got a letter Yvonne.....from Hartland and Featherstone. They want to see me. Next week." 

Gavin held the phone away from his ear as a series of whoops and squeals echoed down the line.

"Gavin! That's _WONDERFUL!_ Oh I'm so pleased!" 

"Mustn't get my hopes up! It's happened before.....and it's miserable when they turn you down....you just want to curl up and die." 

"You be confident Gavin! You have so much talent. Have faith. Go knock 'em dead!" 

oOo

 _The day of the appointment...._.

Standing in front of the mirror, Gavin tied his smartest tie, regarding his own reflection critically. 

A final valiant attempt to tame and flatten his thick mop of hair, into something he considered ' _executive'._

He frowned. 

Fail. 

His best pale grey suit. Shirt pressed impeccably. 

One last check......a groan of exasperation....before lighting a cigarette and puffing on it heavily.  
Sucking in, then releasing a trail of smoke into the air around him. 

"Shit! Don't muck this up Gavin." 

Steeling himself. Smoothing his jacket. Deciding whether he should have the buttons fastened, or undone.  
Collecting his portfolio of artwork, which he tucked under one arm. 

Stubbing out the fag, half smoked. 

John was in the kitchen, finishing a coffee. 

"Ready?" 

"As ready as I'll ever be......" 

"You'll be fine Gavin. Don't try to be something you're not. Be yourself. Just show them what you've got, what you're capable of. They can't help but be impressed. Nervous?" 

"Shitting myself!" 

"I have a good feeling about today.....just go in there and be confident!" 

oOo

The offices were close to the river. 

Posh. 

All glass and steel girders. 

Gavin was even more daunted when he entered the foyer. 

"Oh fuck!" 

Somehow he was expected to go in here and make a good impression. 

Standing in the corridor he took a few deep breaths. 

"You are special!" He said to himself, unconvincingly. "You are talented." 

He stepped forward. Just as he was about to knock, a thought popped into his head. 

Yvonne. 

She was smiling. Proud. He replayed the kiss of the previous week in his head. Fingers touching his own mouth as he beamed at the memory. 

"You can do this!" He said to himself fiercely, and plunged inside. 

oOo

_Back to today...._

Yvonne did not let go of his hand. 

Not for a long time. 

She just enveloped his fingers with her own and squeezed gently. Her thumb sweeping backwards and forwards over the wrist. 

Soft. 

Comforting. 

Eventually she relinquished her grip and left him to go in search of some sustenance. 

Gavin opened his eyes languidly and watched the English countryside flash passed. 

London suburbs. Grey and dingy. Back to backs. Street after street. Teeming with traffic and the hurly burly of city life.  
Purple Buddelia bushes sprouted from every tiny crack or niche in every wall or fence beside the line.  
Fireweed.  
The seeds swept along by the breeze from passing locomotives, seeding themselves in every nook and cranny.  
Watford junction.  
Then suddenly the fields opening out. As if the city grew tired of growing and gave up.  
Ceding its urban sprawl, losing its grip, surrendering to a rural cornucopia of broad leafed woodland, farmland, and meadows, dotted with small towns and villages which straddled the line.

Stone churches, with squat square crenelated towers. Marking the passing centuries like a benevolent guard dog. Alert and watchful. 

Canals, meandering, a ribbon of dark still water, filled with brightly coloured narrow boats. 

Bridges and houses, hedges and ditches. 

And all the time the rhythmic _'clickety click, clackety clack_ ' of the wheels on the metal track.

Lulling him. 

A metronome, counting down the miles, drawing him back. 

Yvonne returned with hot coffee and a muffin each. 

Seating herself beside him. Her face full of anxiety for his troubles. 

"There you go." She said softly. 

He ate and drank in silence. 

Somehow, with Yvonne, he didn't feel the need to speak. Nor did she. But the quietude was never stilted.  
She knew what was going on in his head, she didn't need words to tell him she cared and was there for him.

She just simply was. 

Just as he had been there for her, in her darkest hour. 

Industrial Midlands.

Brick built, the 'dark satanic mills', each with its own grime coated chimney.  
Silent and deserted now, museum pieces, their day long done.  
The heartlands of the march of Victorian progress. 

North. 

Always north. 

Inexorably. Inevitably. 

Dry stone walls. Sheep. The hills of The Lake District. A different coloured stone now. Low slate rooved cottages. Nestling against the hillsides. Like being tucked in with a blanket. 

Wide glacial hewn valleys. 

Trickling rivers, tumbling and rushing under stoic granite viaducts. 

Sometimes a sullen farmworker, flat capped, leaning nonchalantly on a five bar gate, watching as the train whooshed by. 

Painted stations, the names of which were passed by in an unreadable blur. 

Gone, in the wink of an eye. 

Gavin was tired. He leaned his head against Yvonne's shoulder. 

Thank God she was here. 

She'd agreed to come without a moments hesitation, when he'd called to tell her what had happened. 

Dropped everything. 

So grateful. 

Christ! But he needed her company right now. 

He just plain, _did._

Her hand moved tentatively to his hair. Playing with it. Twisting a strand in her fingers, then stroking his scalp gently. 

Soothing. 

He closed his eyes again. 

The euphoria of the interview and how well it went, a distant memory. 

Joy wiped away in an instant. 

Like something that had happened to someone else.  
He'd expected to be ringing her excitedly, to tell her all about it.....instead......instead he'd had to call her with different news. 

His eyelids fluttered, a tear slid out from beneath his lashes, he sniffed, gave a sigh as the memories hit him once again. 

Yvonne's small hand stilled momentarily, then moved to his collar.  
Petting him. Smoothing the skin, teasing through the curls at the back of his neck. 

So welcome. 

The touch like balm. 

Turning his face into her cardigan. Pushing closer. Her grip tightened in response until she was almost cradling his head completely.  
Surrounded and held.  
Hand keeping him in place against her. 

Laying her cheek against the top of his head. 

In his mind he replayed the moment. 

Walking into the flat. 

Phone ringing urgently. He only just got there. 

John was in the bath. He could hear the sploshing. 

"I got it!" He called. 

"Hello?" 

"Gavin?" The voice was familiar, and yet not, it sounded different somehow. 

"It's your Uncle Sal......." 

"Uncle Sal! Hi......everything okay?" 

"I'm afraid not son, your father collapsed an hour ago.....he's in Intensive Care......I think you'd better come......"


	16. Northern Soul.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gavin reaches The Glasgow Royal Infirmary.
> 
> What would he do without Yvonne?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For everyone who has ever sat by a bedside. Xx

CHAPTER SIXTEEN.  
NORTHERN SOUL. 

By the time they reached the Royal Infirmary, straight from the station, it was late. 

Visiting time long since over.  
The night receptionist told them where to go, and they headed up in the lift. 

Gavin was walking so fast that Yvonne had to trot to keep up with him. 

The hospital was quiet, a hum of machinery, the indistinct coughing of some patient on a ward as they passed, subdued voices from the nurses station, muted lighting. 

In the corridor ahead they could see a woman, seated, her head down, legs stretched out in front of her. 

She looked up as she heard their footsteps. 

Face drawn and pale. Eyes red from crying. 

She stood. 

Waiting. 

Shaking her head from side to side in disbelief. 

Arms held away from her body as she recognised the familiar walk. 

Gavin's sister stepped into the arms of her brother and was held tight. Sobbing into his coat. 

"How is he?" 

"Clinging on......they're trying to stabilise him, mam's gone home, she's exhausted......they want to operate......." 

Pulling back, she noticed and greeted, Yvonne. The two women sharing a brief hug. 

His travelling companion turned towards him. 

"You go in.....see your Da.....I'll wait here with your sister." 

Her hand was taken into Yvonne's, clasped between her own, held in her lap as the two women sat down side by side. 

Gavin pushed open the heavy door and entered quietly. 

The old man looked small and grey somehow. Hardly like Dad at all.

Wires and tubes. Machines bleeping. 

Moving to the bedside, Gavin placed his hand over that of his father, as it lay, inert, on top of the coverlet.  
Bloodless, almost transparent, bathed in a deathly pallor. 

"Hey Da! It's me.....Gavin......" 

His voice was suddenly unreliable. 

The thought that he might just lose this man, his parent, who had been there throughout his life, seemingly unchanging, the person for whom he'd been reluctant to travel back to Scotland to see, not so many weeks ago.  
Shame at his own selfishness consumed him.  
Never once thinking that the chance to see him could be the last......there was always tomorrow. 

Except there wasn't. Not anymore. 

He could slip away at any moment. Without giving his son the chance to tell him how much he loved and respected him. How dear he was.  
To let him know he was grateful for all the times.....how sorry he was.......for everything. 

The yellowed eyelids fluttered slightly. 

Eyes opening slowly, gazing about him. 

Fastening on the face of his firstborn, a hint of a smile of recognition. A tiny squeeze of the fingers. 

"You'll be okay Dad. They're taking good care of you. Rest now. I love you." 

The lids closed again. Breathing regular but shallow. The grip relaxing. 

Gavin emerged, sniffing. 

His sister came forward, took his left hand, as he reached for Yvonne's with his right. 

"You two girls go back......stay with mam.....I'm gonna sit with him a wee while......I'll come home later."

oOo

We very rarely experience complete silence.  
There is always some background noise somewhere. 

The sounds of the hospital at night were no exception. 

Gavin drew a chair up to the bedside and sat down. 

At first he watched the sleeping face. Relaxed in repose, but with a hint of underlying pain hovering just beyond sight.  
Occasionally the sleeper would stir, and Gavin would place his hand over that of his father, a comforting gesture to let him know he was not alone. 

At the touch, the breathing would level out again, deepen and become measured. Panic subsided. 

His son's attention wandered, as the minutes passed. 

Sounds. 

The rattling chink of a trolley being wheeled. A hacking cough. Distant ringing of a telephone.  
Voices. Someone weeping.  
Occasionally a groan or a muffled cry from somewhere, which stilled his heart. 

Suffering. Pain. 

Each whimper a story being played out. One of tragedy or redemption. Palliative or curative. Life or death. 

The digital clock on the wall ticked rhythmically. It's beat measuring the moments in equal portion.  
Monitors buzzed and clicked and hummed. 

At first a sudden bleeping would make him start, rising to his feet in alarm. 

Staring down at the patient helplessly. Looking about him as if for divine intervention.  
A nurse entered.  
Calm and assured. 

Fiddling with buttons and knobs, checking IV line. Taking vital signs, entered on a chart.  
Giving a reassuring smile. 

Gavin breathed again. 

He wasn't sure how long he sat there. 

Lids so heavy. The sounds around him becoming hypnotic. Wee small hours of the morning. 

Brain fuzzy with tiredness. The irresistible desire to sleep. 

He must have dozed. Head drooping forwards onto his breast. Nodding gently.

Woken with a soft touch on his arm which made him jump into wakefulness. 

"Why don't you go home for a few hours Mr Bellini? We'll call you if there's anything. Get some proper rest....eh?" 

Gavin rubbed his eyes, taking in the surroundings again. 

"I don't want him to.......you know.......alone.......with no one here........" He stuttered, suddenly feeling his emotions rise. 

"I know....." The nurse's voice was so kind and soft, her hand resting on his sleeve still.  
".......the immediate danger has passed, the drugs are doing their work......the doctors will assess him tomorrow.....then we'll know more....until then, there's little any of us can do." 

Gavin rose stiffly to his feet. 

"Ok.....just for a few hours....."

oOo

Yvonne didn't hear Gavin come home, it was five in the morning when she crept downstairs. 

The house was still and quiet. 

Mrs Bellini was sleeping in the spare room.  
She herself had been given one of the children's rooms, as they had gone to stay with their Uncle and Aunt. 

Lying awake. 

What was she doing here?  
She should have gone to stay with her schoolfriend. She was a spare part.  
Not family, not anything really. 

But Gavin's sister had insisted she stay. Made her feel a part of them. Like she belonged. 

It was humbling. 

How she'd been accepted, right from the start. How comfortable she felt with the Bellini family, and how welcome they'd made her. 

None of this had entered her head as she'd dropped everything and come running at Gavin's call.  
Of course she would be there for him.  
No hesitation, drop of a hat. 

And yet......she was just a friend........nothing more.......or so she kept telling herself inside her head......

Entering the living room, she found him. 

Folded onto a couch which was too short for his lanky frame. 

Legs bent up at the knees, his hands jammed between them. Tousled head resting on a scatter cushion. 

He was deeply asleep. 

Yvonne stood before him. Watching him for some time. 

He looked so peaceful, yet he flinched from time to time as he dreamed, and a shadow seemed to pass over his face.  
The heavy brow line puckering, wrinkling his forehead into deep tramlines.  
His eyes flickered, and she noticed the little laughter lines in the corners.  
She mused on how much she liked the way, when awake, they crinkled when he smiled. 

Such a genuine smile. Scrunching up his rather large nose, showing his teeth. Throwing back his head, emitting little squeaks of mirth. His whole body shaking with the joy of it. 

Warm and truthful. 

Gavin didn't hide much in that face. It was there for all to see.  
Etched just as surely as if it had been carven.

Mobile, expressive, mirthful, the tilt of the head, the waggle of the eyebrows, the twinkle in the eye.....

Nothing false there at all. 

Bending, Yvonne pulled a woollen throw from the sofa back, and draped it over him gently, so as not to disturb him. 

The slumberer dreamed on unperturbed.

Turning, with a sniff, she crept back upstairs to bed, falling quickly into a deep and dreamless sleep. 

oOo

Every passing hour that he still clung to life was a good hour. Bringing hope. 

And cling he did.

Tenaciously.

A war of attrition. He sought for each and every breath, chasing it, finding it, carrying on. 

Battling bravely. 

Not quite ready to let go just yet. 

Gerry Bellini did what he had done his whole life, fought for what he had. 

He still had things to do, places to visit. Things he wanted to see.  
His grandchildren growing up.  
To watch his much beloved, curiously artistic, misfit of a son, make it in the world, and be happy......as happy and settled as he had been. 

The Bellini family gathered. Taking it in turns to sit at his side. 

Talking to him. Willing him to make it through another hour, another day. 

He did. 

Defying both doctors and surgeons alike. Everyone was surprised. 

Saturday passed, melting into Sunday. 

The consultant said, if he continued to improve, the operation would take place during the week. 

Sunday afternoon found Gavin under the clock at Glasgow Central. 

Waiting for the platform of Yvonne's train to be announced. 

She was returning to London......she had to.......new job......she couldn't take time off so soon. 

Standing, bag between her feet. Hands in pockets. Watching the board as the destinations flicked up.  
Gavin beside her. 

Morose. Silent. 

Watching too. 

"There it is.....platform 1....." She said quietly, turning to look at him. 

".....sorry I couldn't do much.......I don't feel like I helped......" 

His eyes widened, hand reaching out to clutch her sleeve. 

"Couldn't do much? You did _everything_ Yvonne.....dropped everything......just to be there......for me......how could you have possibly done more?" 

"Well......I'm hopeful anyway......that's all you can be I guess......I won't say 'it'll be alright' because we can't know......but I'm hopeful......and that's a definite positive, isn't it?" 

"I'm gonnae stay on.......sis needs me, mam too......and I want to.....be here.....y'know?" 

"Of course I know. Where else would you want to be? Let me know if there's any news.....yeah?  
Shall I come up again next weekend?" 

"Would you?" 

"Course!" 

Gavin let out a little sob of gratitude, before he gathered the little woman into a tight hug.  
Pulling her into him and fastening onto her like a limpet on a rock.  
She gave a little 'oof' of surprise at the suddenness of the embrace. 

"Oh _Yvonne_!" He murmured. 

Through his coat she could feel his body trembling. 

"Easy! They'll take the best care of him. They will!" She whispered. 

Their heads were close, as Gavin bent himself slightly to her level. 

Breath warm against his ear. 

It made him shiver. 

Up on tiptoes, her hand slid to the back of his neck, fingers amongst the curls of hair there.  
She kissed his cheek, bringing the same hand round to the side of his face momentarily. Her thumb sweeping across the spot, stroking down towards his chin, lingering for a second, then falling away. 

The gentleness of the touch made him close his eyes, relishing every second. 

"Take care of yourself too Gavin.....okay?" 

She pulled back. 

"Yeah." He hesitated, reluctant to part. Looking down at her from under his lids. Eyes shining a pale, cyan blue through his lashes. 

"You're very special." He muttered shyly, as he released her. 

Her returning look and smile caught him unawares, as she bent to retrieve her bag. 

"Bye Gav.......ring me.....yeah......let me know what's going on?" 

He nodded dumbly, as she began to back away, taking slow steps, widening the gap between them.  
A little wave, then she turned and began to run across the concourse towards the platform. 

Gavin watched her go, his mind in a complete turmoil, realising in that moment, that he wished with all his heart that he should never have to stand and watch her walk away from him ever again. 

_'Turn round........turn round.......please._ ' He hissed to himself, under his breath. _'Just once......please........turn round and look at me......_ '

As she reached the barrier and showed her ticket, her head swivelled back, looking for him over her shoulder.

Gavin bought his hand to his mouth, kissed the palm and blew it towards her. 

She smiled a devastating smile. 

And returned the favour.


	17. Southern Comfort.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gavin is back in London. 
> 
> Yvonne asks him a favour, with unforeseen consequences.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those who haven't read it, The Slough of Despond comes from John Bunyan's The Pilgrim's Progress.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN  
SOUTHERN COMFORT.

A month of spending increasing amounts of time in these stations.

Delivering loving and dutiful care to his parent. 

_London Euston._

_Glasgow Central._

Gavin just couldn't face the stress of the drive. 

The first week was long and angst ridden, as his father's health fluctuated wildly, scare after scare, but ultimately, he was still here. 

Fighting. 

At the end of that second weekend, he felt confident enough to return to London with Yvonne. 

But promised to return the following week. 

For the time being this was now his routine. 

Yvonne would travel up with him at weekends, and he, frankly, didn't know what he'd have done without her. 

Not only was she wonderful company, but she was a rock for him to lean upon when the going got tough.  
She helped him through countless peaks and troughs.  
Moments of euphoria and times when he descended into the Slough of Despond, times when he seemed to sink under the weight of his 'sins' and the guilt he felt because of them. 

Without her kindness and patience, he would quickly have become a very lonely Pilgrim indeed. 

The balance of duty and connection, which had, over the years, tipped away from the place of his birth, now tilted backwards, drawing him apart from his life in London.  
Yet, Gavin came to realise, that as the numbers there diminished, there would come a time when there was very little to take him back to Glasgow any longer. 

He must be thankful, make the time and the effort, enjoy and embrace these precious days. 

Home now, he began to settle into a pattern again. 

Still no word from the publisher. 

He'd felt so confident. So sure this time. 

His disappointment was profound. 

The state of melancholy he found himself in drew him more and more to Yvonne's little flat. 

Evenings spent mainly talking or watching television. 

Invariably ending with her tucked comfortably into his side, just as if she belonged there, his arm around her shoulder, her legs folded sideways under her. 

He would always leave before it got too late. 

Never pressing his advantage. Contending himself with what they had, not expecting or asking for more. Accepting that she did not want a relationship, but that their friendship was an established bond. 

However......things _had_ changed subtlety between them once again. 

A new and recent development. 

Yvonne now presented her cheek for his goodnight kiss, receiving it with a warm smile and following up with a tight hug, and a reciprocal peck. 

Those few moments were the highlight of Gavin's day. 

The thing he most looked forward to.

Usually his hands were gripping her elbows, lifting her slightly onto her toes and into his body.  
Her fingers would rest on each of his shoulders, nails digging in as she strained to be nearer, lessening the height difference between them. 

Catching the scent of her as she moved closer to him, a whiff of something delightfully floral, as she tilted her head towards him with a welcoming smile.  
Her eyes glinting.  
When his mouth connected with her skin, he never failed to feel a jolt run right through him, as if he'd been plugged into a socket and switched on. 

The afterglow would last for an hour or more. 

It made the journey back to his own place one of blissful floating happiness. 

He would gladly continue like this forever, and be satisfied. 

Just so long as she hadn't had enough of him, that's all he asked. 

oOo

"How much longer are you going to mope Gavin?" 

Her comment came as they walked home from the pub, where they'd been for an evening drink. 

Gavin was sucking gloomily on a cigarette. 

Walking side by side as they often did, although on this occasion, her arm was not linked through his. 

She was looking up at him earnestly, asking the question. 

"Well? How long are you going to wallow in this self pity?" 

A shrug was his only reply. 

"Only, I think it's time you stopped!" She stated matter of factly. "Your father is stronger now, improving by the day. And it doesn't look like you're going to get a letter telling you your fortune is made! So, what are you going to do?" 

"Dunno! Start all over again I guess!" He heaved a sigh and blew a stream of smoke out through his lips. 

"Exactly! That's what you're going to do Gavin. Stop feeling bloody sorry for yourself and get off your arse! You have a special talent. But the people won't beat a path to your door.....you have to show them.....think of another story......draw up some new story boards......be proactive!" 

"I don't have a single idea in my head......" He replied, mournfully. 

"Oh, _well_......that's it then." She declared, throwing up her arms in a gesture of defeat.  
"Give up! One trick pony! No more ideas.....and of course, it's not _possible_ that you may just come up with a new and better one.......perish the thought!" 

"Don't be like that Yvonne! I've been giving all my energies to Dad lately. I haven't had time for much else." 

Her laugh was sarcastic. 

"Rubbish! You need a good kick up the backside! Most days you lie in bed till lunchtime, you flop about, huffing and puffing, waiting for a letter that isn't going to come......wake up Gavin! Use the wonderful gifts you've been blessed with.....do it for your dad.......and your mum.....do it for yourself......." 

She tailed off abruptly, her mouth had run away with her, now she was afraid she'd gone too far. 

Gavin stopped walking. 

Pausing mid stride, staring at her, as if she'd just asked him to jump off a cliff. 

"I'd do it for you......" He said quietly. 

"No! Do it because YOU want it......." She added hurriedly. 

"I'd do it for you in a heartbeat......if I thought.......but......." He seemed unsure. ".......but.....I mean.......why does it mean so much to you anyway?" 

Yvonne gave a wheeze of exasperation. 

"Well, of course it means so much! To see you succeed! As I KNOW you can......why wouldn't it? You're my best friend. Why wouldn't I want you to do well?" 

She knew she was backtracking now, but what had been said couldn't be unsaid.  
It was too late. 

"Am I?" His brows were furrowed now, thinking furiously, his face like that of a confused child. 

Gazing at her stupidly. 

"Of course you are, idiot! Who else would put up with my funny ways? My random pearls of unwanted and unasked for wisdom? My annoying cheeriness in the face of adversity? Only you! Don't I just irritate the hell out of you sometimes?" 

"Not really." Gavin spoke slowly, as if certain things were only now dawning on him.  
"I like your sayings.....and your little nuggets of useless information. The way you can always see the good and positive in things, no matter what. I miss your happy face when I don't see it......I've become accustomed to having it around......." 

Yvonne swallowed heavily, but seemed unable to speak. Her eyes watered visibly as he continued.

".......I know I'm a misery. And a stress head. It's that old Scottish propensity to have a depressive outlook.... _'how to make everything good seem shite'._.....I'm a master at it......I'm sorry." 

Moving to his side, she took his left hand, clasping and squeezing it with both her own. 

"Gavin....it's fine.....ignore me. I go too far.....get carried away. But I really hate seeing you unhappy. You're so kind, and you've been such a staunch friend to me.....you know.....after Archie......I'm so lucky to have you.......I'm just trying to spur you on, make you cast the Black Dog aside and go for it......I'm sorry too.....forgive me?" 

Bringing their bundle of entwined hands up to his mouth, he kissed her knuckles gently. 

"Course I forgive you.....nothing to forgive......and I'm gonna!" He announced. "I'm gonna think of a new story......get out there again......try afresh.......I will.....I promise......and I'll do it for you......because you're _my_ best friend too.....and you're special." 

"But do it for yourself most of all.....that's what's important......." Her tone was sheepish now. 

"Gav?" She turned her swimming eyes towards his, two pools of liquid blue. 

"What is it?" 

"Speaking of doing something for me.......I wanted to ask you something.....you can say no if you want.....I won't be offended....." 

His arm snaked around her shoulder, tugging her into his side. 

"Ask away!" He said confidently.

"I've no been able to pluck up the courage to collect ma stuff from Archie.....there are two large boxes, so I need a car......would you come with me?" 

Gavin's face clouded momentarily. 

"You wouldnae have to come in or anything." She added hurriedly. "Just wait outside.....I'll see him. But I could do with a bit of moral support.......but if you'd rather not.....you don't have to......"  
She finished lamely. 

"Yvonne. Of course I'll take you. After everything you've done for me......it's the least I can do.....at the weekend yeah? We'll get it over with......" 

She gave a huge sigh of relief, leaning into his chest, placing a hand there, against the silk of his waistcoat. 

"Thank you so much." She breathed. 

oOo

Gavin leaned nonchalantly against the side of Crazyhorse, one leg crossed over the other, casually smoking a cigarette. 

Watching Yvonne walk up the path to the house, take a visible deep breath, then ring the doorbell. 

Stepping back to await a response. 

The door was opened by a nice looking, gingery guy, dressed in jeans and a sweater. 

Words were exchanged. 

Initially the conversation was curt but restrained. 

"Oh! It's _you_!" His eyes blazed, although his tone was even. 

"I've come for ma things Archie......" She began. 

"There's two large boxes! How are you gonna......?" Was the sharp retort. 

But then, peering round Yvonne he spotted Gavin standing there. 

"Oh! I see! You've bought your new lap dog!" 

Archie became suddenly agitated, barging his ex fiancé aside. 

Marching purposefully down the garden path towards where her friend waited patiently. 

Gavin threw down his fag butt, grinding it beneath his shoe. Pushing himself upright. Hands stuffed into his pockets. 

"You've got a fucking nerve.....you tosser.......coming here!"

Gavin had the advantage in height by at least three inches. Meaning that her ex had to look up to him slightly. 

Reaching the pavement, a finger prodded into the taller man's chest, the two found themselves standing face to face. 

"Don't make this into something it isn't." He replied quietly. "Just give Yvonne her stuff and we'll be gone." 

Something about his petulant anger amused Gavin. He looked so ridiculous, pink in the face, pumped up, aggressive and posturing. It was difficult not to suppress a smile. 

Archie turned to Yvonne, who had followed him back to the kerb and now stood to one side, looking scared. 

"Archie......? _Please_! Just give me my things. Gavin is here because I asked h......"

"So this is what I'm dumped for?" Her ex boyfriend cocked his head from her, towards his adversary in disgust. "Christ!" 

Turning back to Gavin fiercely. 

"A gurning idiot!! She'll use you mate......then toss you aside! You're useful......that's why she keeps you around. It sure as hell can't be for any other reason." 

As he spoke he looked his rival up and down with thinly veiled contempt. 

"In fact I'll wipe that grin off your face. I think you deserve a good......" 

It all happened in a second. 

Archie taking a swing, which caught Gavin a glancing blow in the mouth, causing him to stagger. The aim had been for the eye, but his lack of stature saw to that.  
Gavin also ducked his head back at the last moment, which meant the punch did not connect with its full force. 

Yvonne let out a yell of indignation, stepping between them, before either man could do any more, either by way of a second blow or a retaliation, her hand slapped Archie's face with a resounding smack. 

"How _DARE_ you!" She cried. 

Looking helplessly now from one to the other. 

Gavin held the back of his hand against his bloody lip. Archie clutched his stinging face. 

Yvonne, undaunted, launched a shrill tirade. 

"Give me ma things! _NOW_! Or I'll call the polis! To think....I almost married you! _WHAT_ a lucky escape. Now you've shown your true colours and no mistake! You're an idiot!" 

Turning to Gavin, who's injured expression deeply upset her, she pulled his hand away and carefully examined the blossoming bruise on his mouth in dismay. 

"Let me see! What has he done to yae? Oh my god.......!" 

Before turning back to Archie and verbally attacking once more, with a ferocity that made her former fiancé flinch and back away. 

"Gavin is ten times the man you'll _EVER_ be!" She spat. "And YOU are jealous! Ridiculously so. But he's my friend! My BEST friend at that! Like I thought you were once! WELL......not anymore!  
Now get ma boxes, before you get another slapping.....!"

oOo

John Muir hurried through the hallway drawn by the sound of agitated voices from outside his flat. 

Key in the lock, the front door opening, snippets of conversation......

"Oh God! Gavin! I'm so sorry. I can't believe he went for you like that.....never in a million years did I anticipate......so childish.....so pathetic......"

"It's okay.....it's not as bad as it looks......but can this fucking day get any worse?" He moaned. 

The two entered in a flurry, met by John at the door. 

Yvonne hovering around him like a butterfly, Gavin manfully fending her off. 

"Come away in and sit.....let me have a proper look at it......." She was saying. 

John stood, hands on hips, incredulous, as his flat mate entered, with a fat and still bloody lip. 

"Good lord!" He exclaimed. "What the hell happened to you?" 

"Archie happened!" Yvonne responded, tearfully. "The stupid jerk! Gavin offered to help me retrieve my stuff......and this is what he gets for his pains......I'm mortified......I cannae get over it...... _GOD_!!" 

John burst into a fit of raucous laughter.

"Well! I've finally met the wonderful Yvonne.....that I've heard so much about! The woman who, apparently, causes all grown men she meets to turn into a puddle of goo, then descend into raging fisticuffs over her!!" 

Yvonne frowned crossly. She was not amused. 

"Sorry!" John apologised, still chuckling. "But you have to admit......it is just a tiny bit funny....."

With Gavin seated on a chair in the kitchen, she made a great show of tending diligently to his face. Dabbing him with a damp cloth steeped in stinging antiseptic, touching his lip tenderly, as he hissed, wincing with perhaps just a little more pain than he was actually feeling! 

John watched the proceedings in silence for a few moments before piping up again. 

"Oh! I almost forgot! I have something for you Gav.......it'll take the pain away.......the postman came this morning...."

He held out an envelope. 

Both Yvonne and Gavin froze, as if struck by lightening. Exchanging a glance. 

Wound forgotten.  
Snatching the letter from his friend, he tore it open and ripped out the contents, scanning it quickly......

Swallowing heavily, his eyes watered. Suddenly, Yvonne thought, he looked like a little boy. 

Looking up in disbelief at her, as she stood over him, looking down, her expression at once eager and hopeful, holding her breath. 

_"Hartland and Featherstone Ltd_......" He began, his voice weak with emotion.

"Oh _God_!! Yvonne........John.......they want to publish my fucking story!"


	18. Breakfast.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gavin has a new place.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A couple of months at least, have passed since the last chapter.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN.  
BREAKFAST.

Gavin lay in bed. 

Looking up at the high white ceiling above his head. 

Well, bed wasn't strictly accurate. 

It was a mattress on the floor. 

His place. 

His own place. 

Only moved in the day before. So his very first night. 

Alone. 

Didn't think he'd sleep, but he did, like the proverbial log. 

Completely knackered. 

From excitement and the busyness of the previous day. 

Half asleep and half awake. 

Warm and comfortable in spite of the makeshift arrangements. 

Turning over, stretching himself, yawning, drifting, he dozed. 

Thoughts of the past couple of months meandering dreamily through his head. 

oOo

The initial print run was a relatively small one. 7,000 copies. 

But it was a start. 

There would be a second edition if the book sold well he was told. 

And it did......

.......sell well. 

It was quite astonishing. 

Apparently children aged 4 to 7 loved _'Simon and the Magic Sprite.'_

The day he received the first cheque in the post he almost fainted. 

_'Fuck you Pumpkin Books!_ ' 

_'Fuck you too Mrs Pricklywinkle!'_

Gavin had some money in his pocket. 

Money he had earned through his own efforts. 

The day of the book launch was one he'd never forget as long as he lived. 

His whole family were there, including his dad.

Looking thin perhaps, but hale. Inordinately proud of his son. 

His friend and helpmeet John was there. Beaming with pleasure. 

Yvonne was there too. Her eyes shining with admiration. 

During the interviews with the local press, the Book magazines, and the book signings, he sought those eyes on numerous occasions. 

Exchanging a glance which he hoped said more than he could voice. 

If it were not for her, meeting her the way he did, taking her to Scotland as she ran away from Archie, he wouldn't be standing here now.  
Surrounded by all those he loved best in the world. 

He knew that, and he would never, ever be able to find the words to tell her what it meant to him. 

His talent was finally being recognised. 

Uncle Sal clapped him hard on the back. 

"A true Bellini! Now I know it!" He smiled. 

"Thanks Unc! Can't quite believe it really." 

"Well, believe it! I always did! Your father is the proudest man on the planet at this moment....." 

Came the genuine response. 

".....now is the time to use some of that inheritance! Get yourself a place of your own. You have an income, you have a bright future.....you've made it my boy!!" 

oOo

House hunting. A veritable minefield. Gavin really hadn't a clue what he was looking for or where. 

Yvonne came with him to look over suitable flats and houses. 

She wandered the rooms, her face saying what her words couldn't. 

A frown if she wasn't so sure, a beaming smile if she was. 

Then, THE place. 

He knew it as soon as they walked through the door. 

So did she.

"Oh this is nice Gav......not too much work needing doing......not too pokey......nice and light and airy......." 

Stroud Green. 

Victorian semi. 

High ceilings with the original cornices. 

Original tiled fireplaces too, ' _also featuring a vintage black and white diamond pattern mosaic hallway_ ', said the Estate Agent's blurb. 

_'Large bay window at the front. Two main reception rooms downstairs, with a back kitchen/scullery_ '. 

_'Two spacious bedrooms upstairs and a good sized bathroom_ '. 

_'Paved frontage, with flowering shrubs. Small but delightful garden at the back_ '. 

Not large, not particularly grand, but perfect. 

A lick of paint. Perhaps a bathroom makeover. 

That was about it. 

Deposit down. Go to the Bank. Yvonne's firm dealt with the conveyancing. 

Finances sorted. 

Gavin officially became a home owner........

The week before he moved in, Gavin was in his old room packing up his stuff. 

John knocked.

"Another letter......" He handed over the envelope. 

"Christ! What is it this time?" Gavin was seated on the floor, boxes, his books, photos and albums all around him. 

"I'll miss listening to your Bowie!" His friend remarked, picking up _'Hunky Dory_ ', turning the record sleeve over in his hands, before seating himself on the bed, watching in anticipation as the letter was torn open and perused. 

"Holy fuck!" He exclaimed. "It's from the publishers.......they want a meeting......" Handing over the letter to his flatmate to read. 

"Bloody hell! Gav! They'll want another one!" John was beaming from ear to ear. "This is amazing... _'Simon and the Magic Sprite'_ must be selling really well.....I always knew you could do it......"

"It's all down to Yvonne really......" Gavin replied wistfully. 

"Have you told her you love her yet?" His friend queried, with a slight smile. 

"Don't start all that again! It's not like that, I told you......." 

"It's okay Gav.......you keep telling yourself that......" John rose and made for the door. "She's as bad as you are! Didn't take her eyes off you at the book launch.....I thought she was going to implode with all that _not_ loving you! You're both as daft as each other!" 

oOo

Gavin opened his eyes from what must have been a dream, although it _seemed_ real, or was it just his whirring thoughts? 

Not entirely sure. 

He sniffed. 

Could he smell bacon? 

Impossible! The fridge contained milk and not much else until he had a chance to go to the supermarket. 

Perhaps next door were cooking? 

The scent seemed to permeate, filtering into his nostrils. 

His tummy rumbled. 

Bacon would be just about bloody perfect right now. 

Yawning, he sat up and ran both hands through his hair, pushing it back from his forehead then letting it flop forwards again rakishly. 

The bedroom was filled with sunlight. 

Windows bare. He had no curtains yet. But he'd hung a makeshift blanket to give him some privacy. 

Rising. Naked. Reaching for boxers. 

There was definitely a distinct aroma of frying bacon......

Wandering downstairs, into the kitchen.......

......and there she was. 

The object of all his most secret desires! 

Yvonne. 

In old dungarees and a sloppy T shirt. Plimsolls. A jaunty paisley scarf tied bandanna style round her head. 

Busily making breakfast. 

"Ah!" She beamed. "Mornin'! Perfect timing!" 

The kitchen smelled delicious. Table laid. A posy of fresh daisies in the centre. 

She'd unpacked the box containing cups, kettle, plates and frying pan. 

A bag of groceries stood on the worktop. 

"What the......?" Gavin exclaimed. 

"Well, you gave me a key for emergencies.......so I thought......your very first morning......what would be a nice thing for me to do for yae?" 

Forgetting he was wearing nothing but his underwear, Gavin grabbed her, swung her round from the stove into a tight hug and kissed her on both cheeks with some passion. 

_"Mwahhh! Mwahhh_!" 

She giggled, let out a squeak, squirming free. 

Her face flushed crimson as she looked him up and down......tousled head, neck, torso, um.....middle bit......thighs, bare feet, then back up again, hurriedly. One eyebrow raised in appreciation, before decorum got the better of her. 

"Gavin! Away an' put some clothes on!" She scolded. 

Gavin surveyed himself, then put his hands across his front with a snap, as the realisation of his attire, or lack of it, dawned on him. 

"Er......sorry!" Backing out of the room, he soon returned, now wearing a checked cotton robe. 

"It's all I can find!" He said apologetically. "I haven't unpacked the suitcases yet!" 

"Come and eat!" A wry little smile, as bacon and eggs were placed on the table in front of him.  
"Oh.....and it was _very_ nice....." she added. 

"What was?" He asked, a cheek full of eggy toast.

"The view.......most agreeable!" She smirked. 

"Cheeky mare!" Came the chuckling retort, as she joined him, sitting opposite and picking up her coffee mug, holding it out towards him. 

"Cheers! Here's to your very first morning in your new home!" Her small elfin face glowed. 

"Can't think of anyone I'd rather share it with." He replied, chinking his cup with hers. "Thank you Yvonne. The first of many I hope......now all I need to do is get some furniture.....all I have is this table and two chairs.....and a mattress!" 

"You'll do it.......gradually......and I'll help you if you want, I can paint, and hang wallpaper.......but you're artistic, you'll find special pieces, choose a colour scheme.....you'll know what goes best with what......you'll have fun doing it....." 

Gavin nodded. 

"It's quite exciting! Nothing like the last few months has ever happened to me before.....I almost feel like a different person......and it's all happened since I decided to make a trip, by car, to Scotland.....for completely the wrong reasons.....and picked up a stray runaway hitchhiker......"

He glanced coyly over the rim of his cup as he spoke. 

"........I'll never do anything mercenary like that again....ever......oh......and by the way, I've decided to give up smoking!" 

"Good lord Gav! What's all this? New place. New man? Well.....it's a good decision. I'll drink to that!" 

They clinked their coffee cups again.


	19. Dawning.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gavin is immensely proud of his new home. 
> 
> Yvonne is helping him decorate.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Dire Straits album Brothers in Arms is a classic, with a great sound for decorating to!! 
> 
> This is a pivotal chapter, in that Gavin knows how happy he is, and has done for some time, but only really faces it now. 
> 
> As for Yvonne, well things have rather crept up on her, and her denial makes no difference, she makes a few discoveries of her own.
> 
> The chapter is also dedicated to anyone who has ever built flat pack furniture!!!

CHAPTER NINETEEN.  
DAWNING.

Gavin shimmied across the bare floorboards, wiggling his rather attractive derrière comically, first singing into his paintbrush as a mic, then miming playing air guitar....

 _"We've gotta install microwave ovens, custom kitchens, deliver-iver-iver-ies......_  
_We gotta move these, refrigerators, we gotta move these colour TV's......_ "

Yvonne joined him in the chorus, leaning in as he held the brush in front of her face, so she could sing along...

_"I want my, I want my, I want my, I want my MTV....._

_Money for nothin' an' my chicks for free......"_

The transistor played on as they capered around the room together.  
Gavin in old jeans and a torn T shirt, his hair flopping into his face, Yvonne in her dungarees with one of Gavin's cast offs underneath it, both liberally spattered with paint, both happy as pigs in muck. 

The mirth ended finally as the song petered out, and they quietened down. 

"I'll go make us some tea." Yvonne giggled, laying down her scraper and disappearing towards the kitchen. 

Gavin was so happy, he felt as if it was wrong somehow. 

He didn't deserve it. 

The bubble would burst and it would all come crashing down like a house of cards. 

Presently the door was kicked open by her plimsolled foot. 

Two steaming mugs, one in each hand, and a packet of McVitie's chocolate digestives jammed beneath her chin. 

The room was almost finished. It was a joint effort. 

All coming together. 

For his birthday Yvonne had taken some of the originals of his artwork and had them framed, ready to hang on the newly decorated walls. 

Such a wonderful gift. 

He found himself gazing at her fondly over the rim of his mug. 

A streak of emulsion down her cheek and in her hair. 

Never had she looked more beautiful to him than at that moment. 

As she chanced a glance up at him, he had to look away quickly, lest she find him out. 

oOo

 _Two days later....._.

"It says here.......bracing strut A fits to the headboard with wing nuts and locking bolts D......." 

Yvonne pored over the somewhat complicated instruction leaflet, which was written in twenty languages, turning it first this way, then that, to determine the correct position of the piece in question, in relation to the diagram. 

Gavin, holding the two pieces together, gave a groan. 

"How fucking hard can it be? I mean.....they say a chimp could do it........oh, my bloody arms are aching!" 

Yvonne ignored his whining. 

"Ah! _Now_ I see......I didn't think we had enough bolts.....but look.....bolts D and E are slightly different lengths......now it makes sense......where's the Phillips screwdriver?" 

Gavin, unable to move, rolled his eyes dramatically. 

"Calm Gavin......calm.......we'll get there......." 

She hunted around the partially furnished bedroom, strewn with packaging, until she found it. 

"Right! Hold still Gav.....while I tighten it, then we can do the other side the same!" 

At the end of an hour she wiped the sweat from her brow, as Gavin split the polythene on the new mattress, flung it onto the now completed bed frame and bounced up and down with unbridled glee.

"Brilliant!" He whooped. "Now let's go down the pub....I need a bloody drink!" 

"I need a bloody shower!" Yvonne retorted pulling at her damp top. "I stink!" 

"You can have one here......" He replied without thinking. 

Her response was quick.

"No.....it's okay, I'll pop home, I need clean clothes. It won't take me long......I'll be back.....and you're buying!" 

oOo

Friday nights, and weekends. 

It was very seldom that the two didn't get together. 

On weekdays each tended to be independently busy.

Yvonne worked late sometimes, and liked to go to bed early, as she had to be at the office by eight.  
Gavin was working full time on a new story. 

_Hartland and Featherstone Ltd_ were very pleased with the continued sales of _'Simon and the Magic Sprite'._  
They hired a small studio where Gavin could work. 

Most evenings, however, the pair spoke on the phone. Telling each other of their days, talking about the coming weekend and what they might do.  
Gavin so looked forward to hearing her voice on the end of the line, he felt bereft if he didn't receive her call. 

He met up with John occasionally, for lunch or a coffee, and Yvonne had made some new friends from her work, who's company she enjoyed. 

His house was now a comfortable home. Gavin was so proud of it.  
Yvonne had helped him with the decorating.  
Uncle Sal had given him some family heirlooms, brought by his grandfather from Italy, pieces which he displayed on some newly fitted shelves.  
He'd also visited the reclaim yard and found some lovely old bits of furniture to strip down and refashion.  
In addition to some eclectic lamps, ornaments and knick-knacks found in local antique or bric-a-brac shops, with which to enhance the whole. 

Some Sundays he would cook for her. A skill he was only now beginning to master. 

Gradually, without either of them really noticing it happening, they were spending less and less time at her place, more time at his. 

Somehow, when she was there with him, at home, everything seemed right with the world.  
She filled the rooms, not with her things......(she pointedly kept nothing belonging to her in his house, not even a toothbrush), but his life, her presence was light, joy, fun.  
Never could he get enough of her company. 

How he hated it when she rose to take her leave. 

The moment of parting. 

Following her sullenly out into the hallway. Trying to appear cheery.  
Helping her on with her coat.  
A warm hug and a kiss on the cheek, which he tried his best to string out as long as possible, but mostly failed at miserably, it was always she who pulled away first. 

She would look up at him, head tilted slightly to one side, give him that disarming smile. 

"Night Gav. Thanks for a lovely day." 

Then she was gone......

.......and Gavin always felt as if she took a part of him with her. 

It hurt. 

A physical pain.

He tried not to think about it, tried to be content with what he had, but it was becoming more and more difficult for him. 

There was an ache inside him that he could neither lose, nor assuage.

A couple of times he'd tried to mention it, put into words how he was feeling. But then her look would change, appear distant.....he'd become scared, frightened that he would push her away by being too forward, by wanting too much, forcing her into something he didn't think she wished for, and he would back off.  
Rather this wonderful friendship than nothing at all. 

But the pain remained. 

And slowly, inexorably, it began to consume him. 

 

oOo

 

When 'the event' happened Gavin didn't know what to do.

Saturday night. 

They'd eaten dinner, shared a bottle of wine, then opened another. 

She fell fast asleep comfortably in his arms. 

Her head heavy as a stone against his sternum, breathing deep and regular.

It was a foul night. Torrential rain. 

Gavin dozed too, the sound of the lashing downpour beating on the windows, lulling him. 

He closed his eyes, listening to the rhythmic tinkle and trickle of water into the gutters, a velvety pitter patter, mixed with the rustle of the wind through the trees in the street, which was soothing to hear. 

She gave a little whimper in her slumber, which made him come to with a start.  
Only dimly aware of his stirring, she snuggled herself in closer to him, hand resting beside her head, flat against his chest, then, unknowingly, her small fingers clutched a handful of his shirt.

Limp and leaden. Her hair tickling under his chin. 

Tightening his grip around her, his kissed the top of her head, stroking a gentle hand up and down her sleeve, in what he hoped was a comforting gesture. 

" _Oh Yvonne_!" He whispered, closing his eyes again, to breathe in the scent of her. 

She was leaning into him sideways on. Shoulder fitting snug under his armpit. Her legs tucked up onto the seat cushion beside her. 

It was gone twelve. Normally she would be making a move by now. 

Yet she slept on. 

Gavin Bellini fell to thinking. 

What would happen if they stayed here like this till morning? 

If she woke and found herself still curled into him, that they'd been there all night?  
She'd be embarrassed, even angry with herself. That he knew.  
He _could_ wake her, nudge her, tell her it was time she was going home. But he just plain didn't want to.  
Hadn't the heart.  
So he decided on the next best thing he could think of.

With great care he extricated himself from her limpet embrace without disturbing her. Sliding out from under her. Kneeling on the floor beside where she sat.  
He reached over and placed a pillow at one end of the couch. 

Gently slipping her feet out of her shoes. Hands under her calves. Stretching her legs out and round, easing her back, until she was lying the length of the sofa, head resting against the cushion he'd provided.  
Laying a warm blanket over her, he tucked it in at the sides, as if he were putting a young child to bed. 

Leaning over her then, he placed a lingering kiss against her cool, smooth forehead. 

"Night darling one!" He said, softly. "Sleep tight." 

There was that pain again. 

Just under his ribs. He held a fist against himself in an effort to stop it. 

"Oh _fuck_!" He hissed under his breath, as he rose to his feet with reluctance and backed away. 

Leaving her there, with one small table lamp on, he tiptoed off, up to bed. 

oOo

Yvonne opened her eyes slowly and blearily. Headache. Mouth like sandpaper. 

It was day, that much was obvious. But the curtains were still drawn. 

"Where......?" 

She sat up. Looking about her. 

Surveying all around, at first with dismay, but then with a dawning reality. 

The way she was neatly and carefully tucked in, with tender care. 

Her shoes. Removed, and placed side by side within reach. 

A glass of water on a table at her side, in case she woke, thirsty in the night. The small lamp still burning, should she need to go to the bathroom in the dark. 

Yvonne clamped a hand over her mouth and gave a little stifled sob. 

What did she do to deserve such treatment from him? 

How many men would be so chivalrous, so honourable?  
Never did she have a moments concern with Gavin on that score.  
His behaviour was exemplary. 

Always. 

She trusted him implicitly. There was a gallantry about him which was quite old fashioned, and most endearing.  
Gentle and kind. Attentive and thoughtful.

A realisation hit her, that the last months had been amongst the happiest of her entire life.  
That she was, essentially, where she most wanted to be! 

Burying her head in her hands, she rubbed at her damp, sticky eyes.

 _Oh God!_

Denying the truth to herself. Such a fool! So blind! 

What was she truly feeling at this moment? (Apart from hungover?)

Before she had time to think further, or come to any definite conclusions, she heard stealthy movement. 

Footsteps creeping passed the entrance to the living room.

She listened, hearing the kitchen door close to with a 'click'. 

Swinging her legs round, pushing back the coverlet, she moved to the hall in order to eavesdrop more closely. 

From behind the door, where he presumably thought he couldn't be heard, she could catch snatches of a song. 

Oh Lord! 

Gavin was singing tunefully to himself.....along with the radio......

 _"You are my sunshine, my only sunshine, you make me happppyyy, when skies are grey......"_

.......as he rattled plates and cups, put the kettle on, opened the fridge.

Tears sprang into Yvonne eyes, coursing down her cheeks.....although she found herself smiling at the same time.  
What in God's name was the matter with her?  
So many mixed emotions. 

Archie never once came even close to stirring her like this. 

_".......you'll never know, dear, how much I love youuuuu, please don't take, my sunshine away......_ "

Yvonne was shaking. Wiping at her eyes distractedly. Her nose was running and she hadn't a tissue. 

Suddenly she was aware that his step was coming towards the door. 

Hurriedly she snuck back to the couch, leapt into the blanket, and turned herself to face the sofa back, curling herself up, pretending to be asleep. 

What a bloody idiot she was! How stupid. Childish! 

Trying to stifle her sniffs. 

He entered quietly. 

"Yvonne? You awake.....?" His voice was soft, as he crossed the room, moving closer. 

"Yvonne? I've made breakfast......." He was kneeling beside her now, his hand reaching out to touch her shoulder gently. 

She couldn't pretend any longer. Making a ridiculous show of 'waking', she yawned, sniffed and turned over to face him. 

She got quite a shock. 

Gavin in the morning. In his own environment. At home with himself. 

Not something she'd ever experienced before. 

Newly shaven.  
His face as smooth as a baby's bottom, slightly pink, fresh and fragrant and really rather handsome.  
A little waft of aftershave.  
Showered and shampooed too.  
Hair combed back, flat, away from his forehead, making him look quite different, without his accustomed bouncing curls. 

Clean laundered shirt, soft, chino type trousers, bare feet. 

His eyes looked so bright and clear she felt as if she might lose herself in them forever. 

"You okay?" He enquired, as a worried frown crossed his face. 

Clearly he couldn't fail to notice her red nose and watery eyes. 

"Fine! Why?" She lied, shamelessly blagging it. 

"Well.....you look a bit......um......upset......" He began, his eyebrows going into perplexed mode.  
"Although, that could just be me......I'm not very good at reading women's expressions.....they almost always leave me baffled." 

_'Well, you're damn well spot on this time_!' Yvonne thought to herself, as she sat up. 

"Probably just a bit of hay fever......" She lied again. "Or the effects of the wine.......sorry I fell asleep....very rude of me....." She tried to change the subject. 

Gavin was regarding her intently, still frowning, his eyes scanning hers closely. 

"Right.....well.....as long as you're alright......?" He was not convinced by her fibs for one second, in fact she was quite sure he'd seen right through her. "......and no big deal about falling asleep......I just went off to bed......left you to it......hey.....let's eat.....it'll be cold......." 

He stood up, holding out an inviting hand to her. 

Placing her fingers into his, he curled his own warmly around hers, in that comfortable way he had of making her feel secure, safe, wanted.  
Hauling her up from the settee, leading her towards the kitchen, where everything was prepared. 

"This looks amazing!" She said, with false cheerfulness, as she seated herself. 

Yvonne was painfully aware that Gavin was still watching her. Surreptitiously from under his lashes.  
Still puzzled, as he poured her tea and handed over the cup. 

He made no comment however. 

They ate in silence, except for Yvonne's appreciative grunts of satisfaction at the food. 

Eventually he laid his cutlery aside. 

"You just slept on the sofa Yvonne......" He remarked presently. His voice very quiet. 

"........it's no big deal. Call it a sleepover. We're friends. It doesn't change anything." 

Her eyes snapped upwards, piercing his. He saw her swallow heavily, then smile, just a little too wide. 

"Of course not!" She replied with exaggerated brightness. "It's fine! We're fine! A silly mistake....." 

"A mistake...." He echoed, with a slight tremor in his tone. 

"Well, yes.......falling asleep like that.....not really the done thing! I don't want you to think I intended......or that I expected anything......or something.......or anything.......at all........" Her words petered out lamely. 

"Don't we know each other well enough for that not to be a problem?" He asked gently, his hand poised on the handle of his cup. "I would _never_ presume........" 

"Of course we do....and I know you don't......!" She interrupted. "Like I say......it's fine, I just didn't want you to think badly of me, or that I was using you.....or expecting anything from you........you know.....?" 

"I would never think badly of you Yvonne." He rose from the table, now sounding slightly irritated, taking his half eaten plateful to the sink. 

There was a quiet reserve about him now, a sadness, a resignation, that she'd never seen before.  
It scared her.  
She'd wounded him. She knew it. 

How _could_ she? 

Rising herself, she stood patiently behind him, waiting for him to turn. 

When he did, she placed her arms around his waist, stepping into him, pulling him close to her, laying her head against the fabric of his shirt. 

"Please Gav......"

More tears came, she didn't seem able to stop them, sniffling against his torso.

"........I'm so sorry.......don't be angry with me........I'm a bit confused right now......I can't think.......perhaps I should just go home......" 

Slowly, his arms came around her, his hands laid flat against her back, pressing into her shoulder blades. 

"I'm not angry. I'm just a little sad, that's all. Don't let this spoil everything between us.....please Yvonne, I couldn't bear it......" 

The shake in his voice was plain to hear, and she made no move to pull away. 

"This means more to me than I can ever say Gavin.....you know that, right? To have a friend like you, someone I can trust implicitly.....someone whom I respect and who respects me.....I treasure what we have, honestly....." 

His cheek came to rest on the top of her head, she could feel the thud of his heartbeat against her breast. 

"I'm glad.......are we okay then? It's all I want, just for you and me to be okay. Listen.....what say we have a nice day together? Go into town? Maybe go to the National Gallery.....there's an impressionist exhibition on.....?" 

"That sounds perfect! And we are Gavin......we _really_ are......okay I mean...." 

He let out a juddering sigh of relief. 

She raised her face, going up on tiptoes to kiss his cheek, the touch of her lips made him close his eyes and let out a second long breath. 

"Come on then!" She smiled. "Let's go!"


	20. Overload.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gavin wakes feeling strangely unsettled. 
> 
> A trip to the cinema doesn't help.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was originally going to be the final chapter but it ended up so long that I've split it into two. 
> 
> So this is effectively part one. 
> 
> Pearl and Dean, the cinema advertising company, for those non Brits who don't know it, has, for decades, had an iconic theme music in cinemas throughout the country. 
> 
> https://youtu.be/3WQrLuaMBMw 
> 
> This is the link, I can hear you all singing the Ba Ba Ba's now!!! Lol. 
> 
> Similarly, Kia Ora and their orange juice. They've been around for countless years.
> 
> Scent of a Woman starring Al Pacino was a film that came out in 1992. Quite a classic of its day, winning Pacino an oscar.

CHAPTER TWENTY.  
OVERLOAD

Another month had flown passed. 

No mention was made again of the 'sleepover', nor was the event repeated. 

Gavin tried his best to continue as before, but he felt strangely unsettled, finding it difficult to mask his true feelings under a facade of normality, a sensation which seemed to be growing more intense by the day. 

He said nothing, because Yvonne's adverse reaction after staying the night had worried him. He knew that finding herself on his couch had profoundly disturbed her in some way, although he wasn't really sure how or why.  
Even though she'd assured him all was well, he'd noticed a subtle change in her and he dare not enquire as to what it was that apparently troubled her so. 

He was aware, however, that just as he was struggling, so too, was she. 

What he _didn't_ realise was that her inner turmoils had very much the same roots as his own. 

oOo

It was Saturday again. 

Gavin had woken feeling most odd. His head was buzzing and wired. Mind mulling over all manner of things connected with that 'fateful' morning.  
He found himself having conversations about it with Yvonne, in his head. Things he dearly wanted to get off his chest, both then and now, but couldn't bring himself to. 

Why was he such a coward? And why was he so utterly clueless where women were concerned, he agonised?

His stomach felt strangely queasy. So much so, that he couldn't face breakfast. 

He only knew he was longing to see her. 

Every fibre, every cell, every sinew seemed strained towards that single thought. 

Impossible to concentrate on anything. Unfocused and foggy in his brain. 

_'Fuck this Gavin!_ ' he said aloud to the empty room. ' _Can't go on like this much longer_!' 

oOo

In the kitchen of her own flat, Yvonne crunched on a piece of toast distractedly. 

Staring vacantly into space. 

Her mind replayed the moment of waking in his house. Over and over again. 

Hearing him moving about. Just knowing he was there and she was not alone.  
Seeing how he'd tended to her before leaving her and creeping off up to bed on his own.  
Turning over on the couch after her pathetic pretence at being asleep and glimpsing him for the first time in the morning. 

Her heart gave exactly the same leap now as it did then. 

Coughing violently, almost choking on the crust of her bread. She hurriedly took a large swig of tea. 

Since that day she'd done her best to convince herself that there was nothing there but a feeling of deep friendship.  
She failed miserably on each and every level. It was a lie. She knew it, and she now suspected Gavin did too.  
The more she fought it, the worse it became. Until she thought it would drive her mad. 

She fell to musing as to why it was so wrong to be thinking like this anyway?  
Apart from her own express desire to not fall into the same trap she had with Archie, repeating the same mistakes and so soon after what transpired to be a very lucky escape. 

But Gavin most certainly wasn't Archie. 

Or anything like. 

God! What a ludicrous situation she'd entangled herself in! 

oOo

The queue for the cinema was long, Yvonne waited in line whilst Gavin went to the comestibles counter.  
By the time the two met up again, some ten minutes later, he was clutching various goodies in his arms. 

"I got you a small sweet popcorn and a Diet Coke." He said, as he bent slightly at the knees, so she could take them from him. 

It did not escape her notice that he knew what she'd want without even asking her beforehand. 

Something inside her gave a curious lurch at that thought. 

They took their seats. 

The moment when the lights dimmed was, for Gavin, always a little thrill of excitement.  
Whether it be live theatre or the pictures.  
It had always been this way. Ever since first being taken to The Astor, with his mam as a child. 

" _Ba Ba Ba Ba, Ba Ba Ba, Ba Ba Ba Ba..........Pearl and Dean........"_

The familiar ad music flickered onto the screen........

 _"Kia Ora.......we all adore a, Kia Ora........_ " 

Because it was now dark Gavin took the opportunity to regard his companion's pleasing profile. 

Admiring that small pixie face, the nose which seemed just a trifle too big for it, her feminine brow ridge and chin, the pretty mouth and full lips. 

She was sitting, leaning into him slightly across the centre armrest, their shoulders touching.  
Close.  
Her eyes riveted now to the bright screen as the film credits began to roll.

 _'Al Pacino in Scent of a Woman........_ ' 

Mechanically she dipped her hand into the popcorn carton, posting a couple of pieces into her mouth, ruminating slowly with a transfixed expression, the light reflecting and dancing in her irises as she concentrated.  
Reaching to the side blindly for her drink, also without looking down. Fumbling the straw between her lips, her cheeks sucking inwards as she drank, before replacing the cup in its holder again, all without looking away from the action, and crunching into another handful of the sticky popcorn. 

Gavin was mesmerised. 

After several minutes......minutes where, even had he been under violent interrogation, he could not have divulged, on pain of death, which film was showing, let alone who was in it.....Yvonne seemed to become aware of his scrutiny. 

Turning her head a little at first, then doing a double take as she realised he was staring at her unabashed, with his mouth agape. 

"What's wrong with you?" She hissed under her breath. 

Something in Gavin snapped, bringing him back down to earth, realising he'd been well and truly found out. 

He blinked stupidly, tried to smile a shy smile. 

"Nothing!" He whispered back. 

"Why were you looking at me like that?" She leaned over so that her lips were as close to his ear as the solid armrest would allow, twisting herself around. 

Gavin shivered involuntarily. 

"Dunno.....sorry!" He mumbled. 

She was not be to fobbed off. 

"Like it's the first time you ever saw me......." She continued, with evident bewilderment. 

"I said I was sorry......." He rasped, but before he could continue further he received a sharp tap on the shoulder from the man sitting in the row behind. 

_"Are you two are gonna keep this up all the way through? Only some of us want to watch this fucking flick!"_

Gavin looked over his shoulder in contrition. 

"Sorry!" He muttered apologetically, and the pair, being suitably admonished, turned their attention back to the screen, like two scolded children, both facing eyes front.  
Pointedly not looking at each other at all. 

It was nearer the end, however, as the film became more emotionally charged, that Gavin felt a small hand creeping its way across the armrest between them, searching for, then finding his.  
The small fingers curling around his own and holding tight. 

Gavin couldn't watch the movie anymore. He couldn't see. 

Eyes blurring, swimming with tears that he suddenly could neither control nor deal with, his chest so painfully taut that he thought it might burst.  
The terrible ache inside him, which he'd had since the morning, grew and intensified. 

Shutting his eyes tight. He didn't open them again until the lights came up and the end credits were rolling. 

oOo

They strolled home. 

A cool, clear night, the stars twinkling above them like a thousand pinpricks of light shining through a soft, dark velvet cloth. 

Traffic passed by in a blurred flurry, with a toot of an occasional horn, or a blue flash, accompanied by a wailing siren.  
Orange sodium filled street lights.  
Coloured traffic signals.  
Red. Amber. Green.  
Yellow Belisha beacons at the zebra crossing blinking on and off rhythmically.  
Red London buses. Black cabs. 

Colours merging in a shimmering kaleidoscope which melted into swirls before his dewy eyes.

He stumbled a couple of times, mind reeling, vision indistinct. 

Feeling as if he were falling apart. 

Unaware of his suffering, Yvonne was holding onto his arm.  
Her own threaded through his at the elbow, one hand clutching the soft wool of his coat.  
Prattling on about the film. Enthusing over the performances, the storyline, the intense scene where Al Pacino's Lt Colonel speaks up for Chris O'Donnell's Charlie. 

Gavin wasn't really listening. Nor could he find it within himself to formulate an answer.  
Only barely capable of breathing in and out. 

Instead he floated along at her side, three inches off the pavement. 

In a dream. 

Seeing little, hearing nothing. Only her arm seemed to be anchoring him to any kind of reality at all. 

His ribs hurt. Head pounding. Throat strangely constricted.  
As they had been ever since he woke at the start of the day.

He wasn't sure what was so auspicious about this particular day. 

He only knew that it was something momentous. 

oOo

Home. Seated on the sofa now. With a steaming cuppa each.

Yvonne noticed his quietude. Of course she did. 

It unnerved her. Made her jumpy and tense. He seemed morose, was he angry with her? 

She had a sensation of something big about to happen. 

Equivalent to an explosion. A catastrophe. Or perhaps a volcanic eruption of colossal magnitude. 

Her whole frame was atingle with it. Like electricity running right through her.  
Fingers, toes, even to the ends of her hair.  
She desperately wanted him to say something, but he remained almost mute.  
So she filled the silence herself, with anything she could think of to say. 

Talking herself to a standstill. Receiving no more than one word responses. 

Nothing more to be said. 

Eventually her words faltered and dried. 

The silence now hovered between them, perhaps he was just tired, but she had the feeling it was much more than that. He seemed agitated in some way, and yet when she enquired, he denied it, flatly.

She considered calling it a night, going home. Yet something prevented her. As she watched, he swallowed thickly, as if he had glue in his larynx, his Adam's apple bobbing, her eyes tracked its path downwards. 

Something was wrong. He appeared to be blinking back tears. 

Laying a comforting hand against his chest, she could feel the thud of his heart through his shirt. 

"What is it Gav?" She said, softly. His only reply was the slightest shake of the head, and a tiny noise in his throat, like a strangled sob, which wrung her heart. 

It was as if there existed a magnet, somewhere under his ribs, and she was formed entirely of iron filings, being tugged this way and that as he shifted position, but always closer to him. 

She was terrified, and yet irresistibly pulled in his direction. 

"If there's something wrong, you can talk to me, you know that right?" She ventured, trying to hold his gaze, as he attempted to avoid hers. 

"Just stay.......will you? A bit longer? I'm feeling pretty shit today.....don't know what's wrong with me." 

"Is it something I've done? D'you wanna tell me about it?" 

"No! Can't......I just don't want you to go yet." 

"Okay.....if you want me to, I'll stay." 

His relieved breath seemed to escape in a series of judders.  
As she watched he closed his eyes, his brow furrowing as if he were fighting something internally.

She lay her head against him, as she so often had in the past.  
His arms coming around her automatically. 

Friendly, familiar, and yet somehow not. 

They had done this a hundred times, snuggled together on the sofa of an evening. Companionable, safe, comfortable. 

But this........this was different. 

Whatever _'THIS_ ' was, it was exhausting. 

Both overwrought. Drained. A slow sapping of the energy. Leaching the life from them both. 

Leaving behind only raw emotions. 

Seemingly closed off from the entire world. In a protective bubble of their own making. 

Shutting themselves down.

They both fell gradually, spiralling downward, into a deep, almost hibernating sleep.


	21. Denouement.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yvonne and Gavin have fallen asleep together. 
> 
> Yvonne is first to wake.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the final chapter. 
> 
> The coming together. The end of the struggle. It is intimate without really being intimate.

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE.  
DENOUEMENT. 

It was Yvonne who woke first. 

Slowly, as if emerging from a coma, yawning, a numbness in her right arm from the shoulder, which was tucked under Gavin's armpit as she lay fused against him.

Raising her head slightly she realised she'd dribbled on Gavin's shirt, leaving a small, round, wet patch. 

Her eyes immediately fastened on his blissful, sleeping face. 

As if seeing it properly for the first time. 

Beautiful.

Long delicate brown lashes. Expressive, mobile brows. His large aquiline nose. Cheeks sunken and slack in slumber.  
Her focus moved down toward his mouth, open just a little, the lips pink and looking velvety soft. Shapely, with a pleasing upward quirk on one side when he smiled.....oh God help her, she could just imagine herself reaching over and........

To her consternation, as she raised her gaze, she met the full intensity of his. Clear turquoise eyes wide open now, watching her closely. 

"Oh!" She gave a little start. "You're awake!" 

"You okay?" His voice was hushed. 

"Yeah.....I was just......." She blushed with shame, couldn't possibly tell him what she was _'just'._......

"Just......?" His eyes narrowed as he looked at her askance. 

"Just......thinking it was late, and I should be going home......" 

His fulsome gaze changed instantly. A frown of utter despair sweeping across his face.  
Pupils constricting, his mouth falling in dismay.  
He couldn't hide it, disappointment, plain as if etched there in pen and ink. Yvonne saw it immediately. 

"I'll take these cups out.....wash them up......" 

Extricating herself lightly from his grip, she gathered the mugs, rising hurriedly, heading towards the kitchen.

Gavin followed close behind, shadowing her movement, afraid lest she should somehow slip away.

Standing at the sink, scrubbing with the hand mop vigorously. 

He came up behind her, his body close but not threatening, hands bracketing either side of her torso, clutching the sink edge. She noticed, idly, that the knuckles were white where he gripped so hard. 

Switching off the tap, the crockery clattered down as she turned herself to face him. Leaning back slightly. Looking up. Her face pale. 

"Don't go, Yvonne." 

His voice was a whisper, barely audible. 

_"Please...._.." 

He was trembling. 

Normally, when they said their farewells, he would hold on to her elbows gently, but now his hands came to rest lightly at her hips. 

Keeping her in place. Long fingers digging in through her clothes. Alternately flexing and squeezing with a gentle pressure.

His heavy lidded eyes were scanning hers, as if searching for a sign, something, anything, to tell him it would be okay. 

"Gavin.....I......." She was floundering, caught by the radiant warmth of that look, the question he seemed to be asking although he uttered not a word. 

His fingers travelled, slowly, carefully, searching for, and finding one narrow wrist, fastening around it easily.  
Just above the little nub of the carpus bone, seeking and stroking the patch of skin just inside her sleeve with his thumb.  
Lifting that limp arm towards himself, his other hand came across, unfurling her small delicate fingers.  
She watched, fascinated, as he bought it to his lips, placing butterfly kisses into her open palm. 

At the tenderness of this gesture, tears stung her with the raging heat and ferocity of scorpion's venom, causing her to blink helplessly. 

Releasing his hold, he spoke softly.

"I don't know what to say to you.....to make you stay.......to tell you how much I want......." He faltered, unable to continue. 

She could have made a run for the door, she could have pushed him away......but not this time.  
Instead she raised up her hands, still damp from the washing up, placing them onto his shoulders. Smoothing across the cotton fabric of his shirt. Touching along his angular collarbones beneath, tilting her head to one side slightly as she luxuriated in the pleasing feel of him. 

Taking a brief moment to tease a lock of his hair away from his forehead with a little smile. 

"I really ought to........." She began, with no fight nor conviction in her tone whatever. 

Their eyes met, switched to lock and load. 

" _Please_ Yvonne.....I need you......" His words poured out like molasses; sweet, syrupy and thick with longing.

".......it's been so hard today to swim against this tide.....I can't do it anymore.......I'm drowning.......can't seem to breathe...." 

Using the hold she had on his shoulders, she levered herself up onto her tiptoes, closing the distance between them.  
Her mouth brushed against his cheekbone, the gentlest of kisses, but instead of then pulling away, she let her lips linger, her breath cool against his warm skin, giving him another, then another, before moving towards his ear, kissing the little fold of delicate skin just adjacent to the lobe.

"I know......Gavin......I need you too......." 

At her words and the feel of her soft exhale against his face, he let out a little mewl, pulling instinctively into her, his arms gliding up the sides of hers, before surrounding her deftly, pressing her close, giving a little gasp as he felt her fingers move to the back of his neck, threading into the soft curls there. 

Dipping his head, bringing them cheek to cheek, he drew her in with more strength.  
His mouth finding the corner of hers, the slightest of touches, but one that caused her hand to work it's way higher, sliding up the back of his head, seeking purchase, tugging him in towards her just a jot more, fingernails scratching his scalp deliciously, whilst tilting herself to meet him halfway. 

_"Kiss me._....." Her voice was no more than a wisp of air, escaping from her throat as she slotted her body against his. They appeared to fit together seamlessly, the notches of his hips mirroring hers, his legs a little to either side of her own, her breast flattened against his chest wall, just as if they were exclusively fashioned for each other, moulded, as she somehow always dreamed would be the case. 

Lips closed over lips. 

Such tenderness. 

Lightest of feather caresses at first. Gradually deepening and strengthening the contact.  
Breaking and pulling back a couple of times, as Gavin tried to gauge her reaction. 

_Was this acceptable?_

_Could he do this_? 

Her lids were lowered, mouth straining towards his for more. 

_Yes he could_. 

Gavin closed his eyes, giving a little sigh, as he felt himself begin to melt. 

"Wait......I.......Gav.......!" At the sound of her plea he pulled back instantly, breathing ragged now, his pupils blown, wide and dark.

She, gripping the tops of his arms, looking up at him, suddenly unsure. 

"Is this really happening?" She murmured in wonder. "After all these months.....? Only, I so want it to be real, with all my heart.......is this what you've wanted so badly?" 

Without speaking, Gavin placed the palms of both hands on each side of her face, cupping her cheeks, his thumbs sweeping across the fresh pink flush there, lifting her chin slightly, his response to her question was a renewed assault, fastening onto her with such strength of passion, she gasped with shock. 

"Oh God yes! More than anything!" He muttered, his mouth breaking from hers only long enough to whisper out the words. 

She was pressed against the kitchen counter now, wholly surrendering to his kiss. 

Neither could even contemplate breaking the seal between them.  
Not yet.  
Not yet.  
Mouths working on and against each other. He, dipping his head to recapture her once more, changing the angle, a melding of lips and tongues and teeth.  
From time to time one or other of them would give a moan, or a mewing sound as the heat built between them.  
Her hands now clawing the front of his shirt, two fistfuls of material, as if she would never let him go. 

Lifting and tipping her head back, straining upward, allowing him to explore the line of her jaw and chin, ducking under and down her neck, making little noises of encouragement at each fresh sortie.  
But he couldn't stay away from that mouth for long, it was as if he wanted to devour her, claiming those lips for his own. 

Gavin's brain was reeling. 

When he was finally forced to come up for air, he could only stare down at her in disbelief, shaking his head, swept up with emotion, heart thumping wildly within his breast, his own lips wet, glistening with his desire to capture her sensual mouth over and over again. 

Yvonne seized her opportunity to take control. Up till now he had dictated, directed, turned on the switches, pressed the buttons.  
Now it was her turn. 

Cradling his skull, pulling him down so that she could touch her lips to his temples, his forehead, the tip of his nose, in fact, nowhere that was within reach escaped her solicitous attentions.  
Exploring the soft skin just below his ear, his throat, suckling then using her tongue to lave his pulse point gently, marking his pale flesh and giving him such a surge of exquisite pleasure that his knees almost gave way. 

Beyond speech.

His only mantra......her name. 

Which he repeated breathlessly as she continued smothering him with kisses.

 _"Yvonne.....Yvonne_........" 

oOo

They made it as far as the living room. 

Half walking, half stumbling, locked in their feverish embrace. Their arms snaking around each other like tentacles, unable to decide the best purchase point, now clutching around the waist, or on the forearms, now clamped firmly against the shoulder blades or spine, gripping, clinging, trying to find secure anchorage, a precarious foothold with which to commence some imaginary death defying climb. 

When Gavin discovered that it was virtually impossible to traverse the hallway without severing their connection, he lifted her bodily, manoeuvring, carrying her feet first through the doorway. 

A little surprised cry of, _"oh!_ " as she was swept up, her feet leaving the floor, her arms folding around his neck, holding on for dear life, their faces still pressed firmly together, they remained joined for the duration of the short journey. 

In spite of the bruising intensity, the thought of separating his lips from hers now was out of the question....

......because Gavin's blood had turned to molten lava. Coursing thick and fast around his body, a throb which vibrated through him and urged him on. 

First sitting her onto the sofa, then supporting her weight as he gently lowered her back among the cushions, following her down. His body partly atop hers.  
Mouths still mashed together. She caught his lower lip with her teeth and he groaned, as the erotic sensation flowed through him like electricity.

Sounding like a steam engine, a series of breathy gasps and puffs as he latched on insistantly once again.  
Her hands were on his face now, he could feel the soft warmth of her fingers against his cheeks, his ears, then down the length of his neck and across his shoulders. 

Yvonne burned like fire.  
Blazing, an ignited straw, searing heat pulsing like rocket fuel through every vein.  
Each touch of his scorched her, each kiss blistering in its potency. 

Yet she wanted more. 

The oxygen in the room seemed to be spent, she panted for air desperately.

Consumed, almost delirious with euphoric happiness. 

When Gavin finally, reluctantly, pulled away, she whimpered in protest.

The loss was too much. 

Somehow throughout their intimacy, they'd both remained fully clothed. 

Gavin was far too scared......much too much of a gentleman to start stripping her off at the first sign of affection, and way too shy to expose himself either.  
She, equally as terrified as he, bowled over as she was by everything the last few moments had thrown at her, could not even begin to contemplate so much as unfastening a button....either his or her own. 

As if to address her thoughts, Gavin suddenly shifted himself away from her slightly. 

Reaching down between them, he seized her two hands, bringing them to his lips and kissing the backs of them fervently. 

Looking into her eyes, with hot tears of unbridled joy spilling down his face. 

"I'm in love with you Yvonne......and I'll never, _EVER_ be able to tell you just how much." 

"Oh God! Oh _Gavin_......." Drawing him back towards her, hugging him close, her hands now planted firmly on his back, fingers splayed, pressing him into the warmth of her own body. 

"......when did you know?" 

"I think I've _always_ known......since the day after I picked you up......when I left you in George Square and walked away in a huff.......fucking idiot.....that's why I _had_ to find you.....that's why I ran along half the bridges on the Clyde that day....." 

She was smiling now, grinning stupidly, gazing up at him. Then began to giggle almost manically. 

"What?" He demanded. "What's funny?"  
A furrow of confusion appearing on his brow without him really being aware of it. 

"Oh Gavin.....you _really_ have no idea, do you......?" She whispered gently. 

Bringing her head forward, she rested their foreheads together gently. 

Perspiration made the skin there slippery, but she pressed her lips to him anyway, just below the hairline, soothing the worry lines away.  
Moving back slightly she rubbed her cheek against his, skimming the tip of his nose, letting her lips touch his again lightly. 

_"You_!" She exclaimed. "I can't believe it...... _you love me?_ And......oh Gavin Bellini!.....I love you too.....so _very_ dearly......it seems so clear to me now, I think I always have too......is that mad?" 

"Well, if it is, we're both crazy!" He replied. Brushing his fingers through her dishevelled hair fondly. 

"I told you.....all those months ago.......on the bridge.....it was true then, as it's true now......you get me all in a state......Yvonne.......you're doing it to me right now....."

It was the honest truth, she could feel the tremble running right through his frame, a nervous thrill of excitement, which shook him to the core. 

"And I told _you_.......I'm no doin' _anything_......" Smiling wryly, stroking him in return, combing through that ridiculous silken mop of brown curls. 

He leaned onto the touch and closed his eyes. Letting out a long breath of great relief. 

"When I'm with you, I feel guilty, I feel bad......then I feel happy.......I feel exasperated......fuck knows.....I said before ....you just make me feel mental!" 

Her arms snaked around his waist now, just above his belt line, clasping her own hands at the small of his back.  
She could feel the heat from him, the pulse of his blood, pumping from his chest, as she pulled him into her and held him there. 

With a moment of consideration, and since it was directly at his eye-level, he leaned forwards, touching his lips to the little hollow at the base of her throat, making her draw in her breath sharply. 

"I'm no making you feel _anything_.......!" She croaked. 

Her voice vibrated against his mouth, as he continued his path down, leaving no piece of visible skin unattended to, to the point where the buttons of her blouse began, then back again.  
She, giving little moans of pleasure at the sensation. 

There was definite arousal in his eyes now, in his body too, a growing passion. It was mirrored right back at him in her own eyes, as he gazed adoringly down at her.  
He shifted himself slightly against her, his body settling, coming to rest between her slightly parted legs. She could sense the thrum of his raw, lustful excitement. 

"Yvonne......you make me feel _EVERYTHING_!" He murmured, his honest, open face breaking into a boyish smile. 

He lay his head down, his cheek against her right breast. Letting one hand stray, with delicacy, inside her top, to rest gently, and with great tenderness over her pounding heart.  
Her breathing quickened, and then was held. 

"You make me feel like that too....." Was the thin reply, barely a whisper. 

"........Gavin......would you think me.......? I mean I want......if you want.......? Can we continue this upstairs......?" 

His look, as he raised his head to gauge if her words were in earnest, was eager, expectant, his eyes scanning her hungrily. 

"You're sure?" 

Her smile reassured him. 

The ache which he'd felt since waking all those hours ago, seemed about to erupt, sharpened to an almost painful ferocity. A potent life force deep within him. 

Nodding, he levered himself up from her. Standing to his full height. 

Offering his shaking hand for her to take. His tongue darting out, moistening dry lips. Voice husky with powerful, barely contained, intensely sexual energy. 

".......I love you Yvonne.......so much....... _YOU_.......you are _everything!_ " 

Her small fingers were placed into his, as she rose to her feet at his side. 

"And I love you, more than I can comprehend, or possibly put into words......" 

Their kisses were now slow, languid and deeply passionate, mingled with their mutual desire. Moving blindly backwards and through the door, not wishing to separate for a moment if at all possible.

In the hallway, they finally parted, a smouldering look exchanged between them. Yvonne turned, still holding on to his fingers, one foot on the bottom step. 

His other hand guiding her reassuringly, placed gently in the centre of her back as she mounted the stairs before him. 

Glancing back at him from time to time, reaffirming, dispelling once and for all, any lingering doubt, as he followed behind her meekly. 

Along the landing. Into his bedroom, closing the door firmly behind them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would like to thank everyone who had sent me messages on here and on tumblr with each update. Your kindness is so appreciated and your encouragement keeps me going. 
> 
> Thank you to the four people this story is dedicated to. Bless you from the bottom of my heart. 
> 
> I hope you've enjoyed the story, I've tried to keep to the spirit of the film and do it justice.


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